


30 Day Stucky Challenge

by babybasschick96



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: 30 Day NSFW Challenge, Background Teddy Altman/Billy Kaplan - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-06 19:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 42,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8766817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybasschick96/pseuds/babybasschick96
Summary: Not Safe for Work Stucky Challenge.30 Different prompts (already completed).New updates *hopefully* within 36 hours of the previous one.





	1. Holding Hands (366)

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, now—this is a thirty day Stucky challenge! The good news is that I’ve already gone through and written each of the entries, so hopefully I should be able to meet my goal of posting a new one every thirty-six hours or so. Originally, this was an art prompt and not a writing one, so I’ve had to alter some of them a bit, but there were some interesting prompts that caught my eyes as I was looking for something to do, and I had a lot of fun tackling them. As anyone who’s ever read any of my other works knows, I have a tendency to ramble so my first goal in writing these was to keep them short. I wasn’t able to stick to that goal with all of them, but I feel my extensions of the word counts were worth it for the stories I had in mind. Four of the stories are 0-500 hundred words. Ten of them are 500-1000. Eleven of them are 1000-2000. Two of them are 2000-3000. And three of them broke the 3000 mark. (Granted those word counts are pre-edit, but I highly doubt they will change enough to make that much of a difference.)  
> While I also think I failed on the ‘sexually explicit’ goal on a few, all of these are what I would refer to as intimate, and none of them are what I would deem safe for work, so consider yourselves warned.  
> My characterization falls somewhere between the comic books and the movies, and honestly varies from section to section.  
> I’m going to go ahead and post three different prompts right now to give you guys a little bit of a taste of what’s to come! The first prompt was Holding Hands.  
> As always, I own nothing that I post on here, and greatly appreciate the time you take to read my things! Please, feel free to let me know what you think :)

_Heh…heh…crick…heh_

Their little huffs of air and the creak of the bed underneath of Bucky’s thrusts echoed throughout the room, but Steve hardly cared. Bucky was over top of him and inside of him, and that was all that mattered.

“Bucky—“

“I’ve got you, Stevie,” Bucky murmured, nuzzling down into the side of Steve’s face and kissing at his cheek as he squeezed Steve’s hand within his own. “’M right here. It’s okay.”

Steve wanted to believe him—wanted to believe that everything was going to be okay, but sweat was pouring down his temples and every nerve in his body was on fire, and it was hard to believe in anything that wasn’t the press of Bucky’s loving kisses against his skin.

“’S’at feel good?” Bucky’s voice cut through his peripheral consciousness like shattering glass, and Steve couldn’t help but preen at how wrecked his voice sounded. “’S’at make you feel good, baby?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Steve moaned, turning his face into whatever part of Bucky he could find as Bucky’s hips stuttered and he moaned right into Steve’s ear. “ _Fuck_ , yes—that feels so good, Buck. Don’t stop. Please— _please,_ don’t stop.”

“I’m not,” Bucky reassured him, contorting himself down until he was in such a position to sink his teeth into the bend of Steve’s neck. “I’m not going anywhere, Stevie. Just hang in there, babe. Just hang in and come whenever you feel like you can. Whenever you feel like you can let go, just do it. I’ll be right here through it all. ‘S long as you need me, I’ll be here. I’m here with you, baby doll. ‘M here.”

Every word rolled off Bucky’s tongue as if they were love personified, and Steve let them wash over him the way that he did everything else that came out of Bucky’s mouth while they were having sex, and sparks of fire blossomed up inside of himself, driving him up higher and higher.

Their fingers were twined against each other—their palms pressed together as Bucky drove him closer and closer to oblivion with each roll of his hips—and Steve held on as he finally let himself fall with a deep groan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Cuddling Somewhere".


	2. Cuddling Somewhere (743)

“Fuck, that feels good. Fuck, baby—right there. Stevie… _Stevie_ … Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“Oh, Buck—don’t stop! _Please_ , don’t stop!”

“I won’t—god, I won’t. Just—just— _uhh—_ “

“Hey, Buck—are you in here? I gotta… _ahh!_ ” Lindsey Barnes’ scream peeled its way through the apartment building in a way that the voices preceding it never could. The two boys cuddled together on the bed sprung apart—something that would have been quite comical if it hadn’t been Lindsey’s little brother and his best friend.

“Shit, Linds,” Bucky cussed, scrambling for the blankets that had been thrown off of himself and Steve in their haste. “What are you doing in here? I thought you were supposed to be over at Angie’s?”

“Sorry, I was!” Lindsey apologized, throwing her hand up in front of her eyes as she turned away from the boys and tried to forget the look on Steve’s face from where he was sat between Bucky and the wall. “I was and I’m going right back there, I swear! It was just Ma stopped by on her break and asked me if I knew what your plans for the night were, and I told her I didn’t know cause you’ve got that thing going on at the school and—“

“Yeah, yeah, Linds,” Bucky cut her off with a sigh. His voice was steadier than it had originally been, so Lindsey chanced a peak over her shoulder through her fingers and resisted the urge to cringe when she was greeted with the sight of Bucky sitting up on the side of the bed—one hair covered leg hanging off the edge as a blanket obscured his other leg and his thighs before the threadbare fabric gave way to smooth skin, and Lindsey stopped looking right there and averted her gaze to the ceiling as she dropped her hand and turned around to face them. “I got it—you, um, you had stuff going on, but Ma asked you to stop by and you didn’t know Stevie was over. No big deal. Ma wanted to know what I was doing tonight?”

“Yeah,” Lindsey nodded her head, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. “If you want I can tell her I couldn’t find you—“

“Nah, it’s okay,” Bucky shook his head, pushing his bangs back out of his face. “Just, um, just…I don’t know what my plans for the rest of the day are, but you can just tell Ma that I’m not gonna be here—that I’ve got other things going on.”

“I…alright,” Lindsey hesitated as she looked down at her little brother, but one look at the boy behind him—fisting the blanket tightly between his hands as he tried to melt back into the wall—and she decided to let it go. “If that’s what you want, Bucky. I’m guessing you don’t want me to mention this part to her either.”

“I—no,” Bucky shook his head, unable to look up at Lindsey. “No, I’d really rather you not mention this part to Ma…or anybody for that matter.”

“Alright,” she nodded her head, taking a small step backwards toward the door. “I’ll just, um, I’ll just go then. See you later, Buck.”

“Bye, Linds,” Bucky gave her a half grimace in response. “Tell Angie I said hi.”

“I will,” she reassured him with another small nod of her head before turning to the other boy. “Bye, Stevie.”

“Bye, Lindsey,” Steve answered, but his eyes stayed lowered to the bed, and there was a hitch to his quiet voice as he whispered and Lindsey’s heart caught in her chest. The silver lining was that Bucky seemed to hear the catch, too, and he was turning to look at Steve over his shoulder before Steve had even gotten Lindsey’s name out of his mouth.

“Oh—Stevie,” Lindsey just caught a glimpse of Bucky’s face falling from the side, but she quickly decided that she’d overheard and seen enough and turned away. “Baby doll, come here—“

There was the distinct sound of blankets rustling and somebody letting out a sniff.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky continued to hush the boy, and Lindsey pretended she didn’t flinch as a sob echoed through the apartment. “Stevie—babe—it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

Lindsey had never questioned opening a door in her own apartment without knocking before, but she most definitely wouldn’t hesitate to do so again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Gaming/Watching a Movie".


	3. Gaming/Watching a Movie (602)

“Stevie,” Steve’s eyes fluttered back open at the breathless whisper of his name, and he did his best to suppress a groan when he was met with the sight of Bucky, barely two or three inches away as the brunet ground his rather ample backside and inner thighs down onto Steve’s hips and swollen cock. The two sat there like that for a moment—just staring at each other through darkness of the room as Bucky’s hips moved mindlessly over Steve’s—before Steve figured out how to breathe again and surged forward to seal his lips back against Bucky’s.

Without thinking, his hand slid up over the hardened plains of Bucky’s stomach and chest until his fingers were curling into the dark hairs at the base of Bucky’s neck, and this time it was Bucky muffling noises against his Steve’s mouth as he gripped almost desperately at the fabric stretched over Steve’s chest. Kissing Bucky was like heaven and hell and sin and salvation, all rolled into one. Once upon a time, Steve had let Bucky lead for fear of messing it up, but now they were equals, and the wet slide of their tongues fucking against each other was enough to have Steve’s head in the clouds, never mind all of the other parts of himself that were constantly being assaulted and praised by Bucky.

In another life, Steve would have worried about divesting the two of them of their pajamas or pushing the blankets tangled around their legs to the floor so he could get to skin, but as it was, there just wasn’t time and all Steve wanted was for Bucky to stay exactly where he was, trapped and pushing up against Steve with every move he made.

“Fuck, baby,” Bucky broke away long enough to gasp and swear, but before Steve could respond he was back, and Steve’s hips were canting up of their own accord as he pressed a series of quick, opened mouth kisses to Steve’s lips and preened at the increased friction to the entirety of his crotch. “Want you…want you so damn bad…you have no idea…”

“Yes, I do,” Steve argued, his words no more than breathy whispers as he leaned forward to chase after Bucky’s lips as the hand not now sliding back down Bucky’s chest tightened on Bucky’s hip to help the other man keep his balance. “Fuck, yes, I do—I want you, too, Bucky. Need you.”

Steve knew he shouldn’t have said that out loud—should have pushed Bucky up of his lap the second the other man had snuggled close on the oversized chair they shared and relocated both of the two of them back down to their own apartment, because it wasn’t fair to the rest of the Avengers (his _friends_ ) that he and Bucky had lost interest in the movie flashing on the screen at the front of the room.

That they were all sitting stiffed backed, and staunchly kept their gazes pointed forward in an effort to ignore what was happening behind them. That eventually the movie would end and they would all have to get up and try to pretend that they didn’t know exactly what was going on because Steve and Bucky just loved each other so damn much and even if they couldn’t hear Bucky and Steve panting and whining over the volume of the movie, they could most definitely _smell_ them…

But Steve didn’t care. All Steve cared about was Bucky sitting in his lap; so desperate for Steve’s touch that Steve couldn’t have stopped himself from obliging, even if he’d tried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "On a Date".


	4. On a Date (1739)

Bucky was already in the bathtub as Steve pushed his way into the room, Steve had expected that, but he still hadn’t been ready for the scene that awaited him. Bucky was sitting with his arms folded on the far end of the tub, looking out through the wall of windows that had been opened to allow the evening breeze and the calming crashes of the waves against the beach in, and Steve just had to stop in the doorway and stare for a moment before Bucky finally realized he was there and turned around with a small jolt.

“Oh, hey,” he gave a small smile after he’d realized it was Steve and relaxed back into the water.

“Hey,” Steve found himself relaxing, too, as he stepped even farther into the room and let the door fall closed behind himself. “Mind if I join you?”

“Nope,” Bucky shook his head, and Steve tried not to blush as Bucky watched him cross over to the partially sunken in tub.

The house that Steve and Bucky were staying in was—in a word—beautiful. Steve wasn’t entirely sure where they were—he’d gotten JARVIS’ attention and allowed the AI to take care of everything from planning their excursion to directing them through their flights without the secret being given away—but his training and knowledge of the world told them they were somewhere on the eastern side of the pacific, down towards the equator, and that the house they were staying in wasn’t Stark’s.

Bucky had given Steve two stipulations when they had decided to take this vacation, and those had been that where ever they went had to be close to warm water and _completely unrelated_ to the superhero community, and JARVIS had pulled through on both counts.

The three-story house had been a little much for Steve’s taste—there was no way he and Bucky could have occupied so much space on their own—but it was secluded away from the closest town by about a mile of tropical forest, and the relatively gratuitous number of rooms had made for some very interesting sex.

Thankfully, the kitchen had been fully stocked when Bucky and Steve had walked in the door with a wide array of local produce and fauna, but Steve and Bucky had ventured into town a time or two to check out the local restaurants, and while everybody had been perfectly polite (and Bucky had gotten to teach Steve a new language or two), nobody had recognized either of them. Bucky’s arm had gotten some weird looks as they walked around, but the more rugged atmosphere of the island had desensitized the inhabitants to oddities, and most of them had been more intrigued than anything else.

Both of the boys had spent a lot of time in the water. One of the many benefits of the super-soldier serum was being able to swim in the ocean without fear of jellyfish stings or shark attacks. Sure the animals could still do damage, and it wouldn’t be fun if a great white decided to take a taste, but the odds of them being able to do enough damage to actually _hurt_ Steve or Bucky were extremely low, and they’d both taken advantage of that opportunity. Almost all of the time they’d been there had been spent in the ocean (except for when they were eating or sleeping), and Steve would have been hard pressed to say that he hadn’t enjoyed it.

The fourth night though, Bucky had asked if they could stay inside and try out the Jacuzzi tub in the master bathroom. Steve had agreed easily enough, but he’d ended up getting caught up downstairs on the phone with Sam (because as much as they’d want to get away—and _needed_ to get away—they still needed to keep up with what was going on with the Avengers so they knew that at least everybody was okay), but Bucky had gone ahead on up to get everything ready while Steve finished up and cleaned up what little mess they’d made existing throughout the common areas earlier in the day. Steve took another minute to clean some of the fruit out of the fridge and spread it out on a plate before he headed up stairs.

Without saying anything else, Steve set the platter-like plate down onto the tiled ledge by the giant tub and climbed up the stairs. Both of the men had taken showers on their way into the house—a habit they’d picked up after realizing that everything outside of the house was covered in sand, not just the beach—so Steve didn’t worry about asking Bucky if he wanted him to take another, but he did settle himself down on the edge of the tub and dipped his feet down into the water to test it out as he poured himself a glass of the wine Bucky had opened for them.

“Water feels good,” he commented idly, aware of Bucky’s eyes on him as he watched the reddish-purple liquid flow into his glass. He kicked one of his feet as if to emphasize his point.

“It does,” Bucky agreed, the oddly submissive look still on his face. His eyes flashed to the platter as Steve set his glass down on the tile after taking a drink. “Some of that for me?”

“Yep,” Steve nodded his head, reaching down to grab a strawberry and offering it out to Bucky. “You want one?”

“Sure,” Bucky nodded his head, and Steve watched as he pushed himself a little bit closer and took the piece of fruit from Steve’s fingers. “Everything alright back in the real world?”

“Yep,” Steve answered distractedly, nodding his head as he looked down at his lap to try to hide the fact that his cheeks were turning as red as the strawberry at the sight of Bucky’s lips closing around it. “There were some issues with a rogue mage running around Copperfield, Ohio, and some aliens down in Florida, but other than that everything’s going fine. Clint asked if we would think about coming home early because he’s bored, but—“

“Did you tell him where he could shove it?” Steve looked up at the sound of water, only to find Bucky moving closer to him as he snorted.

“Basically,” Steve grinned as Bucky reached over top of him to grab another strawberry off the plate.

“Smart man,” Bucky smirked, his flesh forearm settling warmly over Steve’s thighs as he held the strawberry up to Steve with his metal hand. “Want it?”

“Please,” Steve cleared his throat, his fingers coming up to brush along Bucky’s skin as he leaned forward to take a careful bite of Bucky’s strawberry. “Mm!”

He grunted his approval of the sweetness of the fruit as he pulled back to chew and swallow, bringing a hand up to wipe at his mouth as he nodded his head.

“Tastes good!”

“It does,” Bucky agreed with a small smile, reaching over to drop the stem back onto the platter before he folded his metal arm on top of his flesh one and settled his chin down atop both of them.

Steve took the opportunity to look down at him for a minute, just ghosting his fingers over Bucky’s cheeks and jaw. Warm water lapped up against his knees and the underneath side hem of his boxer briefs as the jets agitated the water, but Steve didn’t care as Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed under his touch.

“What’s going on, Buck?” Steve’s voice quiet, but he knew Bucky heard him when the other man pushed even farther in between his legs. “Hm? What do you want?”

“Nothin’, baby doll,” Bucky shook his head, his eyes fluttering back open to reveal swirling pools of chocolate and amber that had Steve’s heart skipping in his chest. “Nothin’. I just want to be close…that’s all.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded his head, moving his legs through the water until his calves were secured on either side of Bucky’s torso as he pushed his fingers up through Bucky’s bangs and back through his hair. “Okay.”

Bucky leaned up into the touch for a moment, trusting his weight onto Steve’s thighs, before he pushed forward to press his lips against the cotton of the t-shirt that Steve was wearing. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment as Bucky bit at the fabric and nuzzled his nose down against Steve’s abs, before he was pulling back completely and lifting Steve’s shirt up over his head and throwing it back onto the floor behind Steve in one deft move. Bucky’s lips were back a moment later, kissing their way over Steve’s stomach and belly button, and Steve let his eyes drift close in response—focusing on the way his toes curled in the water as his head tipped back and his shoulders relaxed.

No words were exchanged between the two as Bucky’s kisses started trailing lower, but none really needed to be either. Steve just let Bucky take what he wanted and gave a soft groan as Bucky palmed the bulge in his boxers with a wet hand. Steve’s hips canted up into the ministration of their own accord, and he worried for a second that Bucky was going to react negatively, but then fingers were slipping under waistband of Steve’s boxers and Steve was groaning as warm lips encased the tip of his swollen cock.

Bucky stayed there for a moment, sucking gently and humming as his hands ghosted over Steve’s hips and thighs, before he pulled back and started pushing his way further and further down Steve’s manhood until his nose was brushing against Steve’s lower abs and his little noises of pleasure were vibrating Steve’s nerves straight down to the center of his being.

Fifteen minutes later, Bucky had finally pushed Steve as far as he could go, and Steve groaned as Bucky milked him through his orgasm before the elder man finally pulled off.

The two sat there like for a minute, both of them panting as they came down from their highs until Steve opened his eyes to look back down at Bucky.

“So, that’s what the kids are calling a date these days?” Bucky’s voice was quiet against Steve’s thigh, and Steve couldn’t help but give a soft snort in response as his fingers played through Bucky’s hair.

“I guess it is, Buck…I guess it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I kind of missed the prompt on this one, and I apologize for that, but I can't really see Steve and Bucky going on "dates". Their lives are just so intertwined and have been for so long that I can't really see them setting that I don't think they would look at it as setting aside time for each other. I think them spending time together just happens. Thus is where the "that's what kids are calling a date?" idea came from.
> 
> The next Prompt is "Kissing".


	5. Kissing (737)

All it took was one kiss. One moment, Steve was sitting there, perfectly fine, and then Bucky was grabbing his hand and raising it up to his lips to press a soft kiss to Steve’s knuckles, and Steve was gone. It didn’t matter that they were in the middle of a crowded hallway or that reporters were waiting to film a press release detailing Steve’s latest successful mission to take down even more HYDRA installments. Bucky’s lips had a way of distracting him, no matter where they were or what they were doing, and before he could stop himself, he was using Bucky’s grip on his hand to pull Bucky closer so he could press their lips together in a kiss that had his eyes fluttering shut in contentment.

“Steve?” Bucky questioned as Steve finally pulled back enough that they could breathe again. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes shown as he looked up at Steve.

“It’s nothing, Buck,” Steve gave a soft chuckle that he hoped was reassuring, bumping their foreheads together softly as he did so. Steve couldn’t have gotten hard if he’d tried, but cock gave a feeble attempt. “Just missed you while I was gone.”

Bucky blushed and looked away at that—he was still adjusting back to having people that actually cared about him—but a couple of seconds later, his alluring brown gaze flicked back up at Steve, “Well, I missed you, too, Stevie. I don’t like it when you’re gone.”

“I know,” Steve sighed, reaching up to run the finger tips of his free hand over the scruff on Bucky’s chin. “But pretty soon Fury and Stark will clear you to go on missions, and you’ll be able to come with me. You’ll see—”

“Two minutes, Mr. Rogers,” a frazzled looking blond squeezed Steve’s arm as she passed by on her way to Steve only knew where.

“Thank you, Cathy.”

“You’re welcome,” she called over her shoulder before she went back to barking orders into the radio shoved into her ear.

“—Guess we’re going to have to wait on that reunion then, aren’t we?” Bucky gave a wry smirk as Steve turned his attention back to him.

“What are you talking about, “reunion”?” Steve snorted, absently rocking them from side to side as he looped an arm around Bucky’s waist. “We’ve barely done anything, but… _reunion_ for three days now.”

“Says the man who’s still complaining about missing me while he was gone,” Bucky teased back as he pushed up on his toes to nip at Steve’s bottom lip.

“I can’t help it,” Steve pouted, which only served to give Bucky better access to his lip as he let Steve’s hand go in favor or wrapping his arms up around Steve’s neck. Bucky had been waiting for him at the Avengers’ private hanger, and they hadn’t made it out of the building before Bucky had pushed him up against a wall and gotten him off. Fury and the rest of the team had taken his debriefs via video phone calls and paper work, so Steve had been free to refer the favor as much as he wanted, and he’d returned the favor quite a bit if he was being honest. “I just love you so much.”

“I love you, too, you dork,” Bucky grinned before leaning that much farther forward to kiss Steve again. “But you’ve got to go work now.”

“Do I have to?” Steve made a face. Dealing with the press had never been his favorite part of the job.

“Yes,” Bucky nodded his head, the tip of his nose brushing against Steve’s skin as he did so. “You do. But I’ll be waiting here for you when you’re done.”

“You promise?” Steve was back to pouting.

“Yes,” Bucky sealed their lips together once again, pulling away with one last peck as Cathy materialized at Steve’s side to take him away. “Now go.”

“Alright,” Steve sighed, letting go of Bucky as he turned to follow Cathy. The room was silent on the other side of the door in anticipation at what was about to come, and Steve listened and nodded his head dutifully as Cathy gave him a couple of last minute reminders, trying his best to forget the feel of Bucky’s lips against his in a futile attempt at keeping himself focused on what he was about to do instead of where he wanted to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Wearing Each Other's Clothes".


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes (393)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm posting two chapters today, because I don't think I'll have time to post one tomorrow and both of these prompts are kind of short! The next five or so are all over one-thousand words, so hopefully you guys might like them a little bit more!

“You like this, don’t you?” Bucky smirked down at Steve.

“Yes,” Steve nodded his head, a gasp stealing the rest of his answer away before he could get his breathing back under control. “God, yes, Buck. You’re amazing.”

“Fuck, yes, I am,” Bucky grinned, and Steve would worry that all of it was going to go Bucky’s head, but the man looked like an absolute dream above Steve. Instead of being bare chested and naked like usual, Bucky had left his shirt on in his haste to get Steve inside of himself, and instead of wearing one of his own shirts, he was wearing one of Steve’s. Usually, the two couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, but Steve couldn’t bring his hands to do much of anything other than grip at Bucky’s thighs as he watched Bucky move, and Bucky had seemed to take advantage of that situation—refusing to touch Steve with anything other than his thighs and his butt and the hand rested over Steve’s lower ribcage to keep himself balanced.

Steve wasn’t entirely sure why he was as turned on as he was, but every nerve in his body sang as Bucky pleasured himself over top of Steve’s cock with little regard to anything other than his own fun and he hadn’t looked away from Bucky once since they’d started. His rough grunts and gasps harmonized well with the slick sound of skin sliding against skin, only to be punctuated by the sighs and moans of Bucky as he levered himself up and down overtop of Steve’s evident arousal and rolled his hips in beautiful circles in order to stimulate all of the sensitive spots inside of himself.

Bucky’s cock bounced along with the rhythm of his movements, and had long since soaked a wet spot into the cotton of Steve’s t-shirt but Steve couldn’t find it in himself to care as his eyes flicked up to Bucky’s face. His head was thrown back in pleasure, and his ecstasy was written clearly over his face in the pink tinge of his cheeks and the moist look of his “o” shaped lips.

Steve wasn’t entirely sure who’s idea this was, or how exactly they’d gotten here, but he was glad that they had, and he made a mental note to allow Bucky to do this again anytime he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Cosplaying".


	7. Cosplaying (1644)

“And so then I said…”

Bucky liked Clint. As much as he might avoid praising others aloud, he _liked_ the archer, and thought he was a good man. What Bucky didn’t like at the moment were the archer’s stories, and Bucky was torn between being thankful that the man was sitting there trying to keep him company and just wishing that he would go away. Tony had insisted upon throwing a Halloween Party for the elite of New York to dance around in, and seeing as most of the guests (or their parents) donated money to the Avengers Initiative, the “Avengers” had been invited along. Technically speaking, Bucky wasn’t a member of the Avengers (he was more like Steve’s bodyguard), but Steve had insisted he come as Steve’s date, and just about the only good thing to come from that so far was the whiskey in Bucky’s hand as socialites and wannabe athletes buzzed around and shimmied to the music in a way that had Bucky grimacing more than anything else.

Steve was supposed to be joining him eventually, but the later into the night it got, the more that Bucky felt like he was being stood up, and he was very genuinely considering just going back down to his and Steve’s apartment and beating the shit out of a punching bag as Clint went on animatedly beside him.

Clint was trying to distract Bucky, Bucky knew that, but for all of his efforts it just wasn’t working.

Bucky had known that Steve was going to be late—his Wednesday night art classes down at the community center always ran long because Steve always got caught up talking to somebody or other—but two hours was just ridiculous. Steve had insisted that Bucky dress up (though, he’d refused to tell Bucky what he himself was going as), and Bucky had put some time into putting his costume together. Sure, he’d chosen to dress up as a pirate because he already more or less had all of the parts to the costume in his everyday closet (if not down in his locker with his Winter Soldier suits), and sure, he’d gotten plenty of compliments on it, but he’d paid forty bucks for the knee-length vest and the wide-banded belt that completed the look, and he’d been looking forward to seeing Steve’s reaction to it.

Whether the blond would admit it or not, he’d always found Bucky’s darker side intoxicating, and Bucky had been looking forward to the way his pupils would dilate when Bucky’s smirk threw the scruff on his face into relief. The burgundy bandana tied around his head kept his hair back out of his face, but the hem of it was starting to itch from where it rubbed up against the same line of skin every time he moved. Bucky had just decided to make his excuses and leave as he brought his glass back up to his lips when Clint’s voice lilted up in excitement and Bucky’s eyes lifted up to lock with Steve’s a couple of feet away.

“Oh—hey, Steve!” Clint didn’t have Bucky or Steve’s enhanced metabolism, and the alcohol that he had consumed had clearly affected him, but Bucky hardly paid any attention to him as he took in the velvet-like red cape tied around Steve’s shoulders.

Knee-high, black-leathered riding boots accompanied it, while a black corset gave way to fluffy, matching red shorts that rode about three inches down Steve’s thighs and a white, flouncy shirt that gave the illusion of cleavage around Steve’s chest, even though it was evident that the man wasn’t wearing anything underneath. The cape had a hood big enough to flip up over Steve’s head and drape back down onto his shoulders at the sides, and Bucky didn’t know much about clothing or fashion, but he did know that Steve hadn’t just picked grabbed his getup off a rack down at the local Party Plaza, or whatever that stupid store was called.

He also understood why Steve didn’t tell him what he was going to dress up as for the party.

“Little Red Riding Hood?” Bucky questioned as Steve settled down into his lap a moment later, Steve’s greeting to Clint out of the way as he hooked his arm back around Bucky’s neck and Bucky swallowed down his amusement at realizing how sweet Steve smelled. Like cherries and pine. Steve crossed his legs over Bucky’s thighs like the perfect little lady he could have passed for if he was about one-hundred pounds lighter, and Bucky’s metal hand automatically fell down to the exposed skin on the top one as his other wrapped around Steve’s back to rest against the soft fabric of the cape. “Really, Steve?”

“Yep,” Steve’s grin lit up his entire face as his cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink and Bucky knew that Steve could tell what he was doing to Bucky. “Thought you might like it.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there,” Bucky mused, feigning the deepest sigh he could manage with Steve on top of him, only for Steve to giggle in response. “But enough about that for the moment. You’re late, mister—where have you been? Clint and I have been waiting for you.”

“Yeah,” Clint agreed, a smile stretching across his face as Bucky’s eyes flashed up to him. Usually, Bucky would have left the smaller brunet out of it (dressed up as a very convincing Luke Skywalker, by the way), but Steve had been making him wait and Clint was just sitting on the arm chair of the couch closest to them, looking kind of lost as he sipped at his drink, and Bucky kind of felt bad for him. The rest of the Avengers had been pulled off in their own directions, and it was obvious how uncomfortable the parties made him. “I thought Barnes here was going to have an aneurism worrying about you.”

“Oh—shut up, Barton,” Bucky rolled his eyes, but his earlier hostility towards the man was gone with the appearance of his date.

“I’m sorry!” Steve gave an over exaggerated apology as his hand latched onto the collar of Bucky’s shirt instinctively, and Bucky spared a second to wonder just how long Steve had been planning the whole ‘Little Damsel-in-Distress’ thing. “I swear I was trying to get here on time, but then one of my students stopped me and asked me this question about the classes for next rotation, and I was late getting to the subway, and you know everything is so much worse with the holiday, and then I had to get ready, and—”

“Relax,” Bucky cut Steve off, his hand tightening its grip on Steve’s leg as he looked up at the younger man in amused concern. “I was mostly joking—no need to get your panties in a twist. I was just starting to get worried about you is all.”

“Sorry,” Steve apologized again, but this time without the theatrics as he let go of Bucky’s shirt in favor of cupping Bucky’s chin. “I’ve been looking forward to this for awhile. You look amazing, you know that?”

“Well, a couple of people have mentioned it, but I never had any reason to believe any of them until you came along,” the tease was second nature, and Bucky had just a second to enjoy the look amusement that flashed across Steve’s face before suddenly lips were pressed against his and his metal hand was reaching up to snag the back of Steve’s head and pull him in closer as his tongue licked out against Steve’s lips and teeth, and a deep growl rumbled it’s way out of his throat. Steve shifted on Bucky’s lap, the back of his thigh digging down into Bucky’s dick, and once again Bucky was reminded of the outfit that Steve was wearing—the corset that defined his features, the boots that complimented his muscular legs, the puffy fabric of the shorts that Bucky couldn’t wait to get his hands on…feel against his skin as he buried his face up into the heat of Steve’s crotch and licked and sucked at the beautiful prize beneath… “Stevie.”

Bucky’s voice had dropped when he’d spoken up again, his lips barely an inch away from Steve’s as he looked up into beautiful blues, and Steve’s shy smile in response was all that he needed to see.

“I’m not going to be able to stay here,” his next sentence was quieter, well below the thumping of the music, but he knew Steve would read the words off of his lips just fine. “Not with you looking like that.”

“I know,” Steve’s smile turned from shy to pleased, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“You’re an ass,” he leaned forward to nip at Steve’s bottom lip, but Steve just smiled as he reached up to wipe his mouth on the back of his hand.

“I _know_ ,” Steve spared a second to grin before he pushed himself up off of Bucky’s lap and slid his hand down into Bucky’s as he stood up. “Come on.”

“You two are leaving me, aren’t you?” Clint’s face and voice were disappointed, but not surprised as he looked back and forth between Steve and Bucky as Steve pulled Bucky up to his feet.

“Sorry, man,” Bucky apologized before he threw the rest of his drink back in one swallow. “For what it’s worth, it’s not you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint rolled his eyes as he took another swallow of his own drink. “I get it. Go fuck each other’s brains out, or whatever it is you’re going to do.”

“Gladly,” Bucky flashed him a devilish grin before he set off across the room, pulling a laughing Steve behind him as he headed towards the elevator that would take them down to their own floor. “You’re leaving the cape on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, sorry this update took so long, but I ended up taking an unexpected trip to the hospital Thursday night and have been trying to behave myself and rest so I can heal and recover. I have by no means abandoned this work, and still intend to keep posting, but it might be more towards the forty-eight hour mark in between posts than I originally intended it to be. Once I get back to some shorted fics, I will double post to make up for the lost time, but my health comes first.  
> I don't really consider dressing up for Halloween as cosplaying per say, but this is what came to mind.  
> The next Prompt is "Shopping".


	8. Shopping (1394)

“ _Oh_ ,” the way Bucky’s face lit up sent a stab of dread through Steve’s gut. “What about _these_?”

“What about what, Buck?” Steve asked, forcing his voice to stay calm as he shoved his hands down into his pockets and leaned against the shelf in front of Bucky.

While it was true that Steve wasn’t nearly as much of a prude as everybody thought he was, sex _was_ a private thing for him and the sex store they’d wondered into in search of something to spice up their sex life was a bit…much. Thankfully, Bucky didn’t seem to have the same aversion to the whole vibe of the place that Steve did, so Steve let him look through the shelves and focus on trying to find whatever it was that he wanted, while Steve just focused on Bucky (and his shoes…Steve really, _really_ liked his shoes at the moment—needed to thank Pepper for picking them out for him). Sure, Steve could just look up at what Bucky was looking at but…

“These,” Bucky answered, and thankfully, he picked the package up off of the shelf and shoved it underneath of Steve’s nose, so Steve didn’t have to.

“Women’s…underwear?” Steve’s eyebrows shot up into his hair as his eyes flicked up from the package now in his hands to the eyes of the man standing before him. All Steve could see through the clear packaging was a rectangle of black lace, but the little picture on the label showed a well-endowed woman wearing a set of skimpy lingerie with knee-high socks, and the description read, _“Women’s Pleasure Me Lacey Underwear and Socks! (Bra Sold Separately).”_

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, looking quite pleased with himself for a second before something Steve couldn’t name flashed across his face and he flinched back in on himself. “I mean…we don’t have to if you don’t want…but…I was just…they looked kind of fun…and you’ve always liked my thighs…and I was just thinking…”

“Yeah, no—I know,” Steve cut Bucky off quickly, because he hadn’t meant to offend him. “It’s not…I’m not _against_ getting them…it’s just…it’s not what I was expecting…”

“What do you mean?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked back up at Steve in confusion.

“Well, it’s just,” Steve stammered a little bit as he tried to find the words to articulate what he wanted to say. “When you said that you wanted to come here, that you wanted to try something different, it’s just, I thought, maybe you were thinking more along the lines of some kind of a… _toy_ or gadget to help stimulate you better or something, not… _this_.”

Steve help up the package as if that would explain everything, because in a way, it kind of did, and his brain had long since failed him. Steve had been expecting something to make Bucky feel better, not a way for Bucky to make Steve feel better.

Things were quiet for a moment, and Steve was once again entranced by his own shoes as he felt his cheeks burn and Bucky’s eyes on him, until finally Bucky spoke up again.

“Wait,” Steve cringed at the tone of his voice, but then Bucky stepped forward into his space and he couldn’t help but look up to meet his all-too-knowing eyes. “You think…you think I wanted to come here because I’m not happy with our sex life and wanted something to try to change that?”

When Bucky put it like that, in that incredulous voice with that uncomprehending look on his face, it sounded dumb, so dumb, but—

“Yeah,” Steve’s cheeks burned even redder as he nodded his head. Steve was embarrassed to admit it, but it was the only thing that he’d been able to think about since Bucky had made the suggestion a couple of days previous, and Bucky’s resulting laughter was the last thing he expected. Steve watched him for a moment, confused as Bucky clutched at his sides as if Steve had just told the funniest joke in the world and garbled a few words—only to stop himself halfway through—but instead of joining in like he usually would, Steve’s annoyance and frustration grew, and he couldn’t help but start glaring after a minute or two. “Buck?”

“Sorry,” Bucky apologized, eyes meeting Steve’s for a moment before another round of guffaws took him over and he had to look away again, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he held a hand in front of his mouth in an attempt to get himself calmed back down. “It’s not funny—I mean it _is_ —but it isn’t. Just give me a sec…oh—okay—there we go. Okay. Stevie— _baby_ —I’m not unhappy with our sex life.”

“You’re…what?” Bucky’s words just confused Steve even more.

“I’m not unhappy with our sex life,” Bucky repeated himself, shaking his head and looking rather earnest as he reached forward to touch Steve’s forearm. “In fact, I really, _really_ like our sex life.”

“So, then—“

“So, then, why did I ask you to come here?” Bucky was smiling again as he looked up at Steve, but it was fond and understanding instead of whatever it had been earlier, so Steve just sighed and dropped his shoulders.

“Yeah.”

“Honestly, it was mostly just an impulse thing,” Bucky pushed himself up on to his toes so he was only an inch or two away from Steve’s face as he reached up to ghost his flesh fingers over Steve’s cheek reverently. “I’m happy with what we do—I’m happy with what you do to me. I don’t _need_ some kind of ‘toy’ or ‘gadget’ to make me happy, but things are different now, and I thought maybe it might be fun just to see what all was out there. See if something caught our attention while we looked around. I’d never really intended on buying anything more than some massage oil or fuzzy handcuffs or something, but these caught my eye, and I didn’t realize it, but I think they were kind of what I was looking for. Something to make the whole thing a little more fun, but not take away from _us_ in the process.”

Steve took a minute to process all of that, to digest Bucky’s words and make sense of them, but then a small smile was playing across his own lips and he was relaxing as he looked into the deep brown of Bucky’s eyes, “You’re happy with our sex life?”

“Yes,” Bucky nodded his head, his hair bushing against Steve’s forehead as he did so. “Very much so.”

“And I’ve always liked your thighs?” Steve didn’t know when, but somewhere along the lines his free hand had found Bucky’s and their fingers were playing against each other as they talked.

“Well, you _have_ ,” Bucky huffed, slightly indignantly, and this time it was Steve who was chuckling. “My thighs are great.”

“Yes, they are,” Steve agreed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Bucky’s lips. “But we’re not buying these.”

Steve held up the “Pleasure Me” package for a second as if to emphasize his point before he tossed it haphazardly back onto the shelf that Bucky had grabbed them from.

“What?” Bucky protested, pulling back to glare up at Steve. “But I liked them—“

“I know, I know,” Steve chuckled again. “But if lacy underwear is what you’re going for, we’re not buying them out of a plastic bag in a small sex shop in some apartment building’s basement. If lacy underwear is what you’re going for, we’re going to take you to a real lingerie store, with a real seamstress to help you, and we’re going to get you something that looks _nice_.”

“Oh, we are, are we?” Bucky purred as he leaned up into the Steve’s personal space and smirked devilishly, but Steve just leaned down to press a kiss to the bridge of his nose before he pulled away.

“Yes,” he nodded his head, giving Bucky’s hand a tug as he turned back towards the door, not nearly as bothered by the chains hanging from the ceiling or the dildos the size of his fist sitting on the various shelves as he had been when they’d first come in. “Now, c’mon—I’ve got approximately forty-million in the bank, and I’ve just been dying for an excuse to spend it on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Hanging Out With Friends".


	9. Hanging Out With Friends (1966)

Steve winced as the door clanged into the wall with a loud “bang” at their side, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind and honestly, neither did he. Steve spared a second to pull away from Bucky’s lips to make sure it hadn’t broken or cracked the wall as it swung back shut before he reattached his lips back to Bucky’s and moved forward until they collided with the wall that separated the communal area of the bathroom from one of the stalls.

“Mmm,” Bucky let out a high-pitched noise of pleasure as the collision grinded Steve’s dick up into his own and forced his thighs higher around Steve’s waist, and Steve’s eyes rolled back into his head as he shifted them until Bucky’s back was firmly against the wall. A second or two later, his hips shoved up against Bucky’s and he took the opportunity to lick and bite at Bucky’s mouth as Bucky wiggled and writhed and moaned against him and pulled shamelessly at his hair.

The two of them had been out to dinner with Stark and Pepper and the rest of the gang—some higher end place that they never would have ventured into on their own, but had frequented several times with the others over the last two or three years—and it had been nice, really it had, but somehow all of that had turned into Steve faking a phone call to get away from the noise and the doting waitresses for a moment, only for Bucky to join him a couple of minutes later with the excuse of making sure everything was okay, and somehow…somehow that had turned into this. Steve and Bucky groping at each other desperately while the bathroom attendant dutifully stepped outside to take an early break, and the wall creaked warningly under their weight and the force of Steve’s movements.

“Stevie,” Bucky was first to get a real word out, and Steve chased after his lips for a moment at how wrecked his voice sounded before he kissed his way down Bucky’s chin and jaw to his sweat-salty throat so that Bucky could go on. “Oh— _Stevie_ , _that feels good—oh—oh, please—_ I want you, baby doll…w-wa-want you, please.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded his head in response, grunting as he ground his swollen length up in between Bucky’s ass cheeks and against the older man’s ball sack and cock—neither of their dress pants doing anything to hide their respective arousals. “Whatever you want.”

“The door—“ Bucky started, but Steve cut him off with a particularly rough bite to his throat.

“The attendant locked it,” Steve reassured him as he laved his tongue over the spot in apology. “We’re good. Nobody’s coming in.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky raised his eyebrows down at Steve.

“Yes,” Steve nodded his head again, knowing how important privacy was to his partner. “I promise. I heard the tumbler fall into place.”

“Okay,” Bucky let the subject go, reaching forward to seal their lips back together in a kiss that had Steve moaning. “You got any lube?”

“No,” Steve shook his head, cursing himself as he bit his lip and pulled away. “No—I didn’t think—I wasn’t planning—“

“That’s okay,” Bucky waved off his apology quickly, and Steve looked up in his surprise, but then his eyes caught on something Bucky was holding and he stopped. “I’ve got some.”

“Really?” Steve couldn’t have stopped his eyebrow from quirking up as he giggled if he’d wanted to. “’You plan to accost me in the bathroom before we left or something?”

“Or _something_ ,” Bucky smirked back at him, and Steve held his ground for a second, just staring up at Bucky, before suddenly he was grinning and sealing their lips together as Bucky pressed the little packet of lube into the palm of his hand and played their fingers against each other tantalizingly.

“You’re a fox, you know that, Barnes?”

“Yep,” Bucky fluttered his eyelashes down at Steve and leaned forward to press a series of three or four quick kisses to Steve’s lips, moaning and groaning little noises in between each of them as he pouted his lips forward. “Now, get back to fucking me, please.”

“If that’s what you want,” Steve grinned, shifting Bucky’s weight so that one of his hands was free to slip down in between them and get at the zipper of Bucky’s pants. Thirty seconds later had Steve with his hand down the back of Bucky’s pants, rubbing at Bucky’s tight little hole, and three minutes after that had Bucky’s hands up underneath of Steve’s jacket, pulling at the fabric of his dress shirt as they shared kisses like they would never get the chance to again.

Steve and Bucky had been together for over a century—kissing and biting and fucking for nearly twenty of that—but Steve never got tired of having Bucky in his arms and he honestly doubted he ever would. The super-soldier serum helped, their refractory periods had been nearly nonexistent since they were genetically altered, but even before that, every part of his being had burned for Bucky near constantly, and the reverse had been true for Bucky.

Steve was jerked back to reality by Bucky’s teeth closing over his bottom lip and was in the process of pushing his finger up into Bucky, when the door banged open once again behind Steve, and they both froze.

“Stevie, I thought you said—“

“I did,” Steve cut off Bucky’s panicked words before Bucky could get them all of the way out, and suddenly they were both moving—Bucky grabbing the Smith & Wesson out of the holster in Steve’s waistband, and Steve punching out a section of the marble counter top to use as a shield as he dropped Bucky to the ground and turned around, only to be met with—

“Hulkling?” Steve’s voice rose about three octaves as he took in the giant, green, skrull-kree hybrid in front of him—clearly surprised with what could have only been his ripped clothes hanging off his body as he regarded the scene before him with surprised and scared eyes. “B-Billy?”

“Mr. America?” Billy’s head popped up over Teddy’s shoulder at the sound of Steve’s voice. “I—I mean—Mr. Captain—I mean—“

“Mr. Rogers is fine,” Steve cut him off habitually at the boy’s uncertainty, but then he remembered what was going on and shook his head. “But that doesn’t matter—what are you two doing here? What’s going on?”

Steve went to take a step towards the two but stopped halfway at the deep growl that rumbled out of Teddy’s chest, and he tensed at the feeling of a cold arm wrapping around his waist protectively—the warm wall of strong muscles at his back nothing like the one he’d been groping just minutes before as Bucky let out a growl of his own and leveled his gun straight at Teddy’s head.

“Buck—“

“Teddy, it’s okay,” Billy cut in, laying a hand on top of Teddy’s shoulder as he looked up at the back of the boy’s head. “You can change back—it’s okay.”

“He has a gun—“ Teddy’s deep baritone filled the bathroom.

“I know,” Billy cut him off, too—foundering frustrated-ly for a second before he looked around and used the grip he had on Teddy’s shoulder to pull himself up and over the alien’s shoulder until he was unceremoniously falling back down onto his feet in front of Teddy. “I know, Teddy—but it’s okay. It’s just Captain America and his…his friend—the Winter Soldier. They’re not going to hurt us—they aren’t going to hurt me. You can change back—it’s okay.”

Steve could tell that Teddy wasn’t convinced—the distrust was clear in his eyes and in his stance—but Billy reached up and tugged on Teddy’s chin until the alien was looking down at him and after a silent conversation Steve understood more of than he would have liked to, Teddy slowly shrank back down into his usual civilian body.

Billy whispered a few more words to him then—proud encouragements as he smiled and pushed up onto his toes to press a sweet kiss to the young blonde’s lips—but Steve ignored them in favor of turning his attention back to Bucky, thankful that the man had dropped his gun as Teddy returned to his human size.

“Who are they?” Bucky’s voice was all business, and his arm stayed firmly around Steve’s waist.

“Young Avengers,” Steve answered, turning his own attention back to the two shuffling boys in front of them as water from the broken sinks sprayed and pooled out onto the ground around them. “Billy Kaplan and Teddy Altman—codenames Wiccan and Hulkling. Billy is a mage, while Teddy is a…Teddy, as you’ve seen.”

“So, I have,” Bucky’s words were still in that harsh tone of his, but his body language relaxed the slightest bit at Steve’s words, and Steve knew that was a good thing. There would be more explanations to come—Bucky had received basic reports on each of the Young Avengers, but he had never been given any real information on them just simply due to not having enough hours in the day, but Steve knew his curiosity would be peaked, and that they would most likely be having a conversation about them as soon as they got back to the safety of Stark Tower. “I guess the mage explains the unlocked door.”

“Yeah, I—um—sorry, about that,” Billy blushed, scratching the back of his head as he did so—and Steve didn’t miss the way that his other hand was still entwined in Teddy’s behind his back, Billy’s body angled to hide most of Teddy’s nakedness as his clothes still hung in rags around his limbs. “We, um, I—I guess I kind of got carried away again.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Captain,” Teddy cut in, bringing his free hand up around to Billy’s stomach as he did so. “I know we’ve met before, but—“

“It’s Mr. Rogers,” Steve corrected once again, hands dropping to let the piece of marble rest against the floor as he shifted his posture—cocking his hip to the side as he continued to look over the two boys. While it was true people knew his civilian identity, “Rogers” was a more common name than “Captain America” and hopefully wouldn’t catch the attention of anybody accidentally listening in. “And Mr. Barnes for my… _friend_ , at least while we’re here.”

“Oh, um, yes, Mr. Rogers,” Teddy corrected himself, eyes flashing back to the ground, and Steve couldn’t help but notice the blush that kept crawling up the teenager’s cheeks as he did so. On the one hand, that was understandable given the circumstances, but on the other…Bucky’s pants had been done up in the same move he reached for Steve’s gun, and he and Steve had pulled apart before the boys would have been able to see anything. “Sorry.”

“That’s quite alright,” Steve reassured the two of them, because that part of it really was, but now that he’d started taking in information about the boys in front of him, he couldn’t stop, and the more he noticed, the larger the pit of dread in his stomach grew. Teddy’s clothes had already been rumpled before he’d exploded out into the Hulkling, and Billy’s tie and jacket were in a pile on the floor, removed _before_ he and Teddy had made their way into the bathroom. Billy had been so distracted by what they were doing that he had unlocked the door to a public _bathroom_ with out realizing what he was doing, and— “But, Billy…Teddy. I’ve got to ask…what were you two coming in here to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this time line doesn't /exactly/ work out, but that's the fun of fanfiction :).  
> I imagine a very awkward introduction to the Kaplans follows this (along with a very lengthy apology to the owner of the restaurant, Tommy laughing his ass off, and Noh-Varr being absolutely fascinated by the technology that is in Bucky's arm) who were at the restaurant to celebrate a graduation or a promotion or somebody getting into college or some other big life event. Teddy and Billy (and Tommy and Noh-Varr) are from the Young Avengers comics, and I highly recommend you checking them out if you haven't already!  
> The next Prompt is "With Animal Ears".


	10. With Animal Ears (1435)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I’ve mentioned in other fics, I don’t like tagging triggers on my fics because I don’t want to turn some body off with out the chance to give a little bit more of an explanation as to whatever it is the story contains. Having said that, this is one of those explanations. The Prompt for this Chapter was “With Animal Ears” and I struggled with that for a little bit because I dislike sexualizing animals or animal-like things, and thought about just changing it like I did with a couple of the other Prompts down the line, but eventually I settled on this. While I would definitely say that this involves awkward situations and that can be a little uncomfortable to read (as anybody with a pet can testify—sometimes animals treat humans like other animals and it can get awkward) the whole point of this chapter is that what happens is /not/ sexual (underlined a bunch of times) and stopped because one of the parties involved is an altered state of mind and can’t give consent—and the whole point of this challenge was to step outside of my comfort zone! So, hopefully, I haven’t crossed any lines with this, but I also completely understand if you just want to skip this chapter and head on to the next!   
> (Also, “mow” is pronounced as though to rhyme with “cow” or “plow” instead of “low” or “row”.)

“It’s not funny,” Steve glared across the room at Natasha, but Nat just laughed and nodded her head.

“Oh—yes, it is, Rogers,” she grinned, eyes on the ears underneath of Steve’s hand as they twitched in time with Bucky’s dreams. The brunet had been hit with some kind of a spell, and on top of losing over three-quarters of his height and his weight, Bucky had gained feline-like ears and claws and a nearly foot long tail at the base of his spine, and had more or less refused to leave his perch on Steve’s side since.

Thankfully, it hadn’t been that hard to defeat the magician, and the team had been able to return to the Tower, but Strange’s recommendation had been to let the spell run it’s course, so Steve had been stuck with a sleeping Bucky curled up on his chest and his stomach while the rest of the team laughed and took pictures. Most everybody else had wandered off to attend to their normal duties for the day after an hour or so of cooing over the confused little hybrid, but Nat had remained behind to take some more pictures.

“No, _Romanov_ ,” Steve emphasized the name in petty response. “It’s _not_. Bucky has no control over what he’s doing right now. He can’t even talk—“

So far, any time that Bucky opened his mouth the only sounds that had come out had been confused ‘rowl’s and ‘mow’s and a couple of angry ‘cks’s, as he’d wound his way around Steve’s top half and looked up at Steve questioningly or glared at the magician that had thrown the potion, and Steve most definitely did not think that was funny.

“—And if the roles were reversed, you know he wouldn’t be doing the same thing to you, so lay off already, would you?”

Steve immediately regretted snapping at Natasha (the pained expression that flashed across her face before she recomposed herself spoke volumes), but she and the rest of the team had been going on for hours, and Steve was getting tired of it. Bucky had taken the spell in order to save the rest of them, and they were all disrespecting him when he didn’t even have the state of mind to defend himself.

“I—you’re right,” Natasha’s eyes fell to the floor, as she sat up in her seat. “I’m sorry—“

“’Tasha—“

“No, it’s okay,” Nat cut him off, giving a wry smile as her eyes flashed back up to Steve’s before falling away again. “Bucky took that potion for all of us, and I haven’t shown him the proper courtesy for that yet. Besides, I should probably go check up on Clint and Sam and make sure they’re not getting into anything while we’re not around to keep them in line. Is there anything I can get you, while I’m up?”

“No,” Steve shook his head as Nat pushed herself to her feet with a huffing sigh. “Thank you, though. And I am sorry.”

“That’s quite alright, Rogers,” this smile was much less self-deprecating than the last, and Steve found himself giving a quiet, good-natured snort in response as Nat brushed a hand back through his hair and bent down to press a light kiss to his forehead. “Tell Fluffers there hello for me if he turns back before I get to see him again.”

“I will,” Steve returned her smile as his attention settled back down onto the purring creature on top of him, and Nat gave his hair one last gentle thumb before she stood herself back up and walked away.

On the one hand, Steve still wanted to call the little thing Bucky and think of him as the man he’d spent the last twenty or so (waking) years of his life with, but on the other, the tiny creature was just so different that Steve wasn’t sure if he could really do such a thing while still being fair to both of them. Steve took another moment to just look his features over and study the way that his chest rose and fell with his snoring little breaths, before a loud bang and a yell sounded from the kitchen and the hybrid was blinking himself awake.

“Mow?” his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his head tilted up to meet Steve’s gaze questioningly, and Steve couldn’t help but chuckle as he reached down to press his lips to the crown of Bucky’s hairline.

“It’s okay, Buck,” he let his lips linger as laughing yells echoed in from the hall and Bucky’s claws dug down into Steve’s chest. The sharp things were painful—especially when Bucky had chosen to perch himself on Steve’s shoulder with his hind claws supporting the majority of his weight against Steve’s lower ribcage while they’d still been out in the battlefield earlier—but it had been fun to watch Tony jump as they’d sunk into his forearm and chest after Tony had attempted to remove Bucky from Steve’s person to get some blood work, and that had kind of made it worth it. “They’re not going to hurt you…they’re just being loud.”

Steve wasn’t sure how much of his words Bucky understood, but Steve’s lips and his hands seemed to calm the human-like feline, and before Steve knew what was happening, Bucky was tightening his hold on Steve’s chest—burrowing his stomach down into the warmth that radiated between their bodies as the frequency of his purrs lessened and he butted his forehead up against Steve’s lips and face.

“Do you like that?” Steve found himself chuckling again, but the only response Bucky gave was to retract his entire being ever so slightly before he butted up against (and into) Steve once again and kept pushing until he’d slid past Steve’s face and had turned himself around on Steve’s chest and stomach. Bucky’s half-human, half-animalistic paws hurt against Steve’s muscles, but he endured the pain in favor of Bucky’s purrs as the creature started rubbing his face along Steve’s shirt.

“Mow-row,” Bucky’s unintelligible, but clearly happy response came a little late, and Steve didn’t begrudge him that fact as he continued to scratch behind Bucky’s ear with one hand, the other coming up to form a barrier of sorts to keep Bucky from accidentally falling off of Steve and the couch as he lost his footing in his attempts to rub his face at all of the parts of Steve he could find.

“Yeah?” Steve’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he watched Bucky explore his torso, but his further line of questioning was quickly cut off as Bucky strayed a little too far south and rubbed his face up against the worn denim covering Steve’s crotch. “Bucky— _no!_ ”

“Nyah,” Bucky let out a chirping sound in response, sparing Steve a quick glance back over shoulder as his tail twitched, before he continued to “scent” himself down against the bend of Steve’s legs as Steve held his breath and thought of just about everything else that he could except the way that Bucky’s face and neck were so warm. Steve knew that it was natural—that there were all kinds of hormone glands down there that Bucky could smell and wanted to mark with his own scent—but Steve didn’t know how Bucky would feel if he had the mental capacity to understand what he was doing, and nerve endings unable to differentiate between stimuli aside, all it felt like for Steve was weird and uncomfortable. Thankfully, somewhere along the lines, Steve had instinctually pulled his hand back away from Bucky’s ears as he’d stiffened, and Bucky had quickly become distracted by the lack of touch and turned to follow after it—razor sharp teeth and claws helping to pull Steve back to reality as Bucky toppled over onto his side against Steve’s farthest hip and latched onto Steve’s hand and wrist before the blond could pull it too far away. “Row-rowr!”

Bucky continued to make noises as he squirmed and generally contented himself with batting at Steve’s hand and biting at his fingers, but Steve was just happy that he’d gotten Bucky’s face away from his crotch. Bucky’s shoulders and back were still pressed up against him—brushing and wiggling as he twisted to reach Steve’s hand, but Steve could handle that, and quickly shifted to bring his legs up to protect his more sensitive areas with his thighs. Something told him it was going to be a long couple of hours before the spell wore off and he didn’t want Bucky to get any more ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Wearing Lingerie".


	11. Wearing Lingerie (1284)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter is a continuation of “Shopping”! Originally, the Prompt was “Wearing Kigurumis”, but I had this sequel in mind, and thought this was a good place to insert it.

It wasn’t uncommon for Steve to be the first one in bed.  Between himself and Bucky, he’d always had a harder time letting his body slip into the land of dreams, so he’d made a habit of heading down the hall towards their room first.  Most of the time he took a long, hot shower (which typically involved more mindless singing than he was willing to admit), before he dried himself off and climbed into bed and read whatever novel had most recently caught his fancy as he waited for Bucky to wander in and join him after a shower of his own.  Sometimes, Bucky would accompany him to the shower or sometimes they would just skip the shower part completely as they fell into bed with tangled legs and hands pulling at clothing, but Bucky liked to be clean when he slept—freshly bathed, if not a little covered in Steve’s come—so, this particular routine helped to ensure that both of them accomplished that task while also giving them a little bit of time to themselves as Steve calmed down and Bucky did some dishes or laundry before climbing into bed beside him.

This particular night, Steve had reached for his notebook instead of his novel and was sketching some birds he’d seen playing around a fountain earlier in the day as he waited for Bucky to finish up in the bathroom.  The sound of the water splashing down against the tiles as Bucky hummed had become some what of a comforting white noise for Steve since Bucky had come back, and he found his shoulders relaxing back into the pillows as the scratches of his pencil slowly lulled him the rest of the way towards peace.

The atmosphere was disrupted ever so slightly at the sound of the shower turning off and the hairdryer turning on a moment or two later, but both of those things only meant that the time until Bucky would be joining Steve was that much less, so Steve forced himself to remain in that trance like state, and he focused on the paper and lines in front of him as he ignored the idle noises coming from the bathroom.

The fountain and the backdrop had come to fruition well on their own, but Steve was still having trouble with the birds, and was on his fourth attempt at a section of wing when the bathroom door finally opened and his head was snapping up at the sound of Bucky’s voice.

“Hey, Stevie,” Bucky smiled, his voice a deep rasp as he leaned his hip and elbow against the frame of the door, and Steve’s mouth suddenly went wet at the sight before him.  “What do you think?”

Instead of wearing the usual plaid pajama pants and t-shirt or boxers that Bucky usually slept in, Bucky was decked out in the lingerie Steve had bought him a couple of weeks previous, and Steve’s brain was having a hard time comprehending what he was seeing. Soft black lace hugged Bucky’s hips in what Steve had learned was a ‘boyfriend short’ cut from the seamstress, and served to accentuate Bucky’s natural thighs and curves while softening the hard planes of his muscle into something that even the straightest of men would have been salivating over. One of Steve’s soft white dress shirts hung over the shorter man’s shoulders, but Bucky hadn’t taken the time to button it, and every dip and valley of his abs and pectorals stood pleasantly for Steve’s perusal. The confident smirk on Bucky’s face completed the look, along with the rose petal pink, thigh-high stockings stretched over his legs, and Steve found himself swallowing thickly as his eyes finally flicked back upwards to meet Bucky’s.

“I—“ he forced himself to clear his throat and wet his lips as Bucky’s smirk grew before he tried again. “I think they look good.”

“You think they look good?” one of Bucky’s eyebrows raised towards his hairline.

“I—yes,” Steve nodded his head, his eyes trailing back down Bucky’s body as he licked his lips again—dropping his notebook down to his lap to try to hide the interested twitching of his dick as he did so. “I think they look—“

“Just good?” Bucky cut him off, his head cocking to the side as his eyes demanded to be met, and it only took one shift of his body to for Steve to realize that Bucky was playing with him. Dangling a string out in front of him and waiting him to take it like a cat. In the same motion, Bucky pushed himself up and away from the doorframe and started making his way over towards the bed, never breaking eye contact with Steve as his muscles bunched and pulled and demanded to be watched as he moved, and whether Steve wanted to or not, he obliged. “’Cause I’m not trying to toot my own horn, but I have it on very good authority that somebody in this rooms thinks my thighs are to _die_ for—“

Steve sucked in a deep breath and let his eyes flutter closed as Bucky climbed his way up into Steve’s lap in one fluid move—brushing Steve’s notebook and pencil aside as he settled himself down onto the flannel comforter overtop of Steve’s lap. Bucky’s words didn’t falter once as he moved, his voice staying low and smooth and sinful in spite of the inner torment Steve felt, and Steve let his hands fall down over top of Bucky’s warm thighs of their own accord—his fingers brushing over both skin and fabric as they landed over the hem of the socks.

“—And if the lingerie looks good, and my body is just to die for, then I don’t see why the two combined wouldn’t be just mind blowing…”

Bucky leaned forward as he purred the last words, warm breath invading Steve’s senses as moist lips brushed against his own, and Steve groaned as the motion ground their hips together, “You’re killing me, Buck.”

“Good,” the turn of Bucky’s smirk was on just the right of side of predatory as his fingertips ghosted up the lines of Steve’s abdominal muscles to his neck. “’Cause I want you to tear me apart with your teeth.”

“That I can do,” Steve spared himself a cheeky quip before he quickly grabbed onto to Bucky’s hips and tipped both of the two of them over onto the bed, enjoying the way that the Bucky giggled and beamed and squirmed underneath of him as he ground his swelling cock down into the lace of Bucky’s underwear. “But I’ve got to tell you, Buck—anything else you want me to do to you in these things is going to have to wait, because I don’t think I can control myself much longer.”

“You like them that much?” Bucky’s fingers made their way up into Steve’s hair, and Steve’s eyes fluttered closed once again as Bucky’s nails scratched at his scalp—flesh and metal alike.

“Yes,” Steve nodded his head, and nuzzled the tip of his nose down lightly against Bucky’s cheek, taking in the smells of Bucky and his shampoo and Steve’s own scent as it lingered on the collar of his shirt. “But more importantly than that, I like _you_ that much.”

“You’re such a sap,” Bucky’s giggle huffed out warm and moist against Steve’s ear, but in the next second he was guiding Steve’s face over so that they could like press their lips together, and Steve groaned into the kiss as he ground himself down against everything that was Bucky and licked his way all too happily into Bucky’s waiting mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Making Out".


	12. Making Out (890)

Bucky’s tongue danced with mine—his teeth biting and scratching at my flesh as his lips demanded my undivided attention. His chest and torso weighed heavily on my back as his cock spread me apart and turned me into a writhing mess with the agonizingly beautiful slide of it, but it only made me pant that much harder. My dick bounced and seeped between my stomach and the sheets beneath me, but Bucky refused to allow it any more gratification than that as his hands kept mine pinned down against the mattress.

Our fingers were laced together, metal and flesh alike, and my arms were flexed just as tightly as his were as I groaned and grunted into his mouth and tried my best to match him move for move. I’d long since lost track of how long we’d been rocking together, but Bucky hadn’t relented once since he’d manhandled me down onto the bed with a searing kiss and started ripping at our clothing.

As soon as my pants were flung across the room, Bucky had bent my knees up to my chest without asking any kind of permission first, and he deep throated my cock as he fucked me open with his fingers and the lube he’d grabbed sometime in my wonder. Bucky stretched me just enough that he wouldn’t cause any permanent damage before he flipped me over onto my hands and knees and claimed my body and lips for his own. The first thrust or two had been uncomfortable as my body adjusted to the sheer girth of his impressive and quite frankly throbbing cock within my ass, but Bucky’s hands had massaged over my back and ribcage as he moved for a minute and that had tided me over until the pleasure had flared over to mask the pain. It was only after my jaw had relaxed enough that I could truly return Bucky’s kiss that Bucky picked up the pace of his hips, and I’d been lost in grunting bliss ever since.

A part of me wondered if I should be concerned—that maybe enjoying such rough treatment might be indicative of something that I didn’t want to look at too closely—but Bucky and I had long since sat down and set out “rules” for such things, and I knew from experience that one syllable of the word “Chandelier” would have Bucky stopping in his tracks and pulling back so that we could talk. Neither one of us particularly liked using our safe word, but we had pulled it out several times over the years, and I was happy to have it. Even though we’d both been “big” for nearly a decade, we were still adjusting to our strengths, and sometimes we stumbled upon an emotional trigger without realizing it. Bucky had thrown me through more walls than I would care to admit (especially because Wanda was almost always on the other side of said walls, for reasons that were far beyond me), and there had been a time or two that I’d come back to my senses mid romp only to realize that I’d pulled a knife and pressed it to Bucky’s throat in my own unrealized panic.

Thankfully, Bucky taking control and holding me down like this was a fairly routine thing and my entire being pulsed with pleasure and want as he did. With out really meaning to, we both let go and let something far more feral and primal take over control of our inhibitions when we were like this and our moans and sweat mingled together as we touched from head to toe. Bucky’s balls swung forward to slap against mine and the inside of my thighs as he humped me blind and plundered my mouth with his tongue, and it didn’t take very long before I was shuttering against Bucky’s lips as my body tensed and white hot pleasure ripped through my veins.

Warm semen spurted from my cock and stained the sheets below me, and the skin of my stomach and chest, but I hardly cared as Bucky let go of my left hand to reach down with his metal one to stroke me through it. My crossed eyes rolled back into my head as his cool palm slid from up my balls to the length of my neglected member slowly, and Bucky made a preening noise as my ass squeezed around his cock. Bucky’s lips stayed pressed against mine the entire time, his lungs stealing my breath as he whispered praise that would have had me blushing any other time. I expected Bucky to move his hand back to my own once my balls had expelled everything they had to give, but his hand remained relentless as my dick slowly relaxed within the grip of it, and I groaned at the overstimulation until Bucky finally let me go in favor of reaching back up to retake my hand.

He gave me another couple of breaths to recover what little I could before his hips started grinding into me that much harder as he started chasing after his own orgasm, and I dutifully rocked back against him and let Bucky do what he wanted, basking in the flex of his muscle and the growl that rumbled out of his throat as he finally tensed and came pure warmth and love inside of me a couple of minutes later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Eating Ice Cream".


	13. Eating Ice Cream (675)

Bucky couldn’t move. No matter what he did his eyes kept coming back to Steve’s pink tongue lapping over the vanilla ice cream on his upside down spoon, and Bucky was just…Bucky was lost.

Completely, and totally lost.

“Stevie,” he finally conceded defeat to the swelling of his balls and gave up biting his lip to let out the whimper he’d spent the last ten minutes holding in. Steve’s eyes snapped up immediately—spoon still dangling halfway out of his mouth—and Bucky had to close his eyes at the strength with which his dick throbbed at the embarrassment that covered Steve’s face when he realized Bucky had been watching him.

“Buck?” the concern was clear in Steve’s voice, and Bucky forced himself to take a few deep breaths before he opened his eyes back up to look at the man sitting across from him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, baby doll,” Bucky nodded his head, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “I’m fine. I just—God, I just—your _mouth_ , Stevie. That _ice cream_. I want you licking me like that, baby. I just—I just—“

Steve watched Bucky stumble over his words for a moment, before he looked back down at the ice cream in his hands. Bucky watched him stare at it for a minute—the gears clearly turning in his head—before he spooned himself another bite and made a show of popping it into his mouth and licking the ice cream off of it as slowly as he could. Bucky whined, just as entranced as he had been before, but then Steve dipped his spoon back into the ice cream and suddenly, he wasn’t bringing it back up to his lips.

He was holding it out into the air between the two of them in what could have only be an invitation, and Bucky scrambled up off of the chair he was sitting in and straight over onto Steve’s lap, his own bowl of strawberry forgotten on the table behind him.

Steve was surprised at his enthusiasm, that much was obvious, but he didn’t seem annoyed or unwelcoming of it, so Bucky just made his thighs comfortable on either of Steve’s as he caught Steve’s forearm with both of his hands and forced Steve to hold his gaze as he guided the spoon to his mouth and let his eyes roll back into his head as he licked at the frozen treat on top of it. Steve was quite obviously hard underneath of him by the time he let Steve pull the spoon from his mouth, and he wasn’t surprised to find it refilled with ice cream and headed back towards Steve’s mouth as he reopened his eyes.

Bucky watched in amusement while Steve licked at the bite, and took the opportunity to move his hands down to Steve’s abs and felt at all of the strong muscle there. Steve had always been a piece of work in Bucky’s mind, but the serum had made him into something else. Having their own apartment to share without having to worry about getting caught by other soldiers was just icing on top of the metaphorical cake.

Bucky wasn’t sure when his hips had started moving down against Steve’s—their cocks rutting together in slow slides that had little noises spilling forth from Bucky’s lips that he couldn’t have stopped if he’d wanted to—but they had, and it wasn’t much longer before Steve was pulling the spoon back away from his mouth.

Bucky watched as Steve’s eyes flashed down to the bowl of ice cream in his hand and his eyelashes fluttered, but Bucky had lost interest in the dessert. There was a much better indulgence right in front of him, and Bucky slowly pushed Steve’s hands out of the way and ducked down so he could catch Steve’s lips with his own.

“Stevie,” Bucky whispered Steve’s name again, this time against his lips, and it was all worth it for the way that Steve’s body pushed up against his as he groaned. “Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Age Swapped".


	14. Age Swapped (1775)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I completely failed the “Sexually Explicit” goal here, but I kind of gave you guys a full spectrum of Steve’s and Bucky’s ages through out all of this, and I do think there is a certain dynamic to their relationship in this that I didn’t hit on anywhere else.

Not once had Bucky minded following Steve into battle. Sure, there had been times where it would have been nice to just stay in bed, and sure, he hadn’t always felt as strongly about some of the things that Steve fought for, but Bucky had never _minded_. Sometime around his seventh year of life, he’d decided that Steven Grant Rodgers was his “only one”, and Bucky would follow him no matter where that little six-year-old boy went. Unfortunately, Steve wasn’t so little anymore, and following him no matter what entailed a shit-ton more than Bucky originally signed on for, but that was okay.

Despite what the Soviets and HYDRA had done to him, he kind of enjoyed punching things and doing good in the world when he got to choose what he was fighting for, and it kind of seemed a shame to just sit around, lazing about when he felt there were innocent people out in the world he knew he could protect. Oddly enough, Bucky was reflecting on this as he fought off the latest batch of aliens trying to invade. Thankfully, the armies that came every few months weren’t nearly as big as the Chitauri army Loki used, but they were still big and advanced enough that the human militaries of the world were out of their depth trying to stop them, so Steve had led a squad of the Avengers into New York to try to help contain the destruction and protect the citizens that the aliens kept throwing weird potions at.

Bucky didn’t entirely understand how their weapons worked—weird glass type vials containing colorful liquids, along side their ray guns and sword-like stab-y things—but he did know that they weren’t impervious to Wanda’s magic, and that his bullets still passed through their knees and shoulders just fine and that was good enough for him.

“Stark—you got any idea how far these things spread?”

Bucky idly noted Steve’s voice coming through his comms unit as he sighted his Smith & Wesson and continued to fire, taking down an alien or two every minute or so, but he didn’t pay it much mind. Most people didn’t realize it, but one of the most powerful weapons a sniper had was time, and Bucky didn’t forget that lesson just because he was closer to the action than he used to be. Instead of firing willy-nilly or wasting his bullets on cover fire, he took the time to aim his guns and make shots he knew were going to prove useful to the group of them in the long run.

Bucky was on the east side of the street—containing the action by making himself useful with Wanda at his back—and picked off aliens on both sides of himself as they got too close to his teammates or wandered too far away from the action. Steve was on the far west side, using his shield to both protect himself and take out his adversaries as he fought off both low-tiered cronies and the bigger alien who seemed to be their leader. Clint and Natasha were in between them, punching and kicking and shooting and hitting whatever aliens ventured close enough, and Tony flew above, firing his energy blasts at whomever he could while he tried to keep an eye on the problem as a whole.

“Mostly just along this street,” Tony answered, a slight strain to his voice as he flew around and tried to keep an eye on everything. “Groups of about five keep trying to break off, but I keep bringing them back. So far, their potion things haven’t affected my suit, but I’m afraid to get too close in case they do.”

“That’s alright—“

Bucky continued to half-listen as Wanda moved behind him. She was more or less perfectly capable of taking care of herself—certainly more powerful than the rest of them combined—but she was still fairly new to the whole “battle” setting with adversaries all around her, so Steve had assigned Bucky as her “handler” to make sure she stayed safe. Sure Bucky would have preferred being over with Steve, but he understood the importance of keeping Wanda safe, and he would have honestly been upset if something happened to her. Her naturally quiet demeanor complimented his own very well, and a companionship had grown between them through their quiet conversations. Mostly Bucky just watched to make sure she didn’t miss anything, but he occasionally called out advice to her as they worked, too—and that was a whole other kind of fun as Wanda quipped back.

“—I want you to stay up high, anyway,” Steve went on, grunting a little bit as the clank of his shield rang out through the street as he slammed it into something particularly hard. “Chase after them when you can, but stay up high. I don’t want have to worry about you—agh!”

Without Bucky’s permission, his head snapped around to where Steve had cried out across the field, and everything else fell away as he watched Steve fall to the ground, some kind of pink liquid all over his body, before something around him exploded and suddenly Bucky couldn’t see him anymore. Bucky just stood there watching for a minute, ignoring the panicked voices in his ear as the team tried to figure out what had happened before he caught sight of the alien that Steve had been fighting, cackling victoriously as they floated up into the air, and the world came crashing back to him with a vengeance.

Before he could realize what he was doing, his left hand was flying up to catch the throat of an alien who was trying to use the team’s distraction to their advantage, and he was bringing his gun around to aim it at the alien’s face. Five more aliens were at his feet in the next fifteen seconds, and only two of them were Wanda’s doing.

“Wanda—“

“I’ve got her,” Clint answered his unasked questioned without hesitation, more or less materializing at their side as he nocked an arrow to his bow, and Bucky barely had time to nod his acknowledgment at the younger man before he was taking off across the street, no longer bothering himself with subtly as he pointed his gun and took out any alien he could find, using his fists and knifes just as often as he used his guns. Wanda and Clint more or less fell into step behind him, hanging a couple of yards back so Bucky had room to move, and Natasha followed them once they’d made it to where she was on the street, but Tony was already on the ground by Steve, holding off the main bad guy as Steve stayed out of Bucky’s sight.

“Stark—“

“I can hold him,” Tony answered Bucky’s bark but Bucky knew he was lying. While Stark was good, he wasn’t trained for close-quarters hand-to-hand, and his weapons were having no affect on the alien thing. “Get Steve.”

“No,” Bucky left no room for argument, quite literally reaching up underneath of one of Tony’s arms to shoot the vial out of the alien’s hand that Tony had missed. Tony jerked at the shot, halfway turning around where he hovered in the air, but Bucky just moved past him. “The alien is mine. Get back up in the air.”

Tony hesitated for a moment—that much was clear—but Bucky didn’t care. He had already moved on to engage the alien, and Clint was already down in the rubble looking for Steve while Natasha and Wanda covered him. The rest of the fight was a quick one. It barely took ten consecutive moves before Bucky’s hand was closing around the alien’s throat, and the alien was down on the ground, hissing and kicking it’s legs fruitlessly as Bucky glared at it.

“Romanov?”

“I’m here,” Natasha answered him, and Bucky only waited long enough for the barrel of a gun to flash in his peripheral before he let the alien go—squeezing its throat one last time before he pulled away and pushed himself to his feet—putting his arm through a quick reset to keep himself from doing anything more as he started backing away.

“Don’t let it go anywhere,” he ordered, though it was more out of habit than fear that Natasha was incapable. “If the potion it threw did anything to Steve, we might need it to reverse the affects.”

“Got it,” Natasha chirped, and Bucky took a second to look up and make eye contact with her, hoping the look portrayed how grateful he was, before she turned her attention back to the alien and he turned around back towards Steve. Twenty seconds later, he had crossed the distance over to the broken pavement, and five seconds after that he was lifting up the biggest slab laying over the heap with the aide of his metal arm and promptly throwing it down the street.

“Barton—“ he automatically looked to the archer for an explanation, but before he could get the words out his eyes caught on the tiny figure in the center of the crater underneath of Clint and he physically jerked as his heart stopped beating in his chest.

“Bucky?” a tiny voice called—more like begged—and Bucky’s stomach lurched, because he knew that voice. He’d gone ninety years without hearing that voice, but he would know it anywhere. “Bucky, is that you? I can’t see. I can’t—I can’t—“

Bucky was down on his knees before Steve could get the third “I can’t” out, reaching for the man as he sat in his too-big suit, tremors wracking his scrawny little body as he clung to Clint’s hand.

“I’m here, Stevie,” he breathed, reaching forward as Steve’s eyes snapped up to meet his unseeingly at the sound of his voice. “Stevie, baby, I’m here—“

“Bucky,” Steve’s voice broke, and just like that he was up in Bucky’s arms, halfway on Bucky’s lap as he clutched as Bucky’s shoulders and sobbed into Bucky’s neck. “Bucky, I can’t see—what’s—what’s happening to me—I can’t see—“

“Shh, baby doll,” Bucky rocked him from side to side as his flesh hand came up to the back of Steve’s head and his lips pressed frantic kisses onto the side of it. Bucky didn’t know how or why, but suddenly Steve was back to his pre-serum size and apparently health, and age-old fears gripped at Bucky’s being like he was still a sixteen year-old kid in Brooklyn. “It’s okay—it’s all going to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "In a Different Clothing Style".


	15. In a Different Clothing Style (813)

_“Uuugh,”_ I groaned as my head slammed back against the rough wood of the barn wall, absolutely loving the way that Bucky nipped and sucked at my collarbones and my throat.

I had no idea what had gotten into him. We’d just been out, moving hay and feed in the barn for Clint, when suddenly Bucky had grabbed me by the open part of the flannel I’d bought in town and started kissing the hell out of me. The wall of the barn had come in to play not too long after, and I could easily feel the throbbing girth of his cock rutting up against the inside of my thigh as his hips jerked forward in tiny little thrusts. Bucky had yet to make any noises of his own, but his panting breaths were warm against my skin, and his metal hand was shoved down into the back of my ripped up old jeans, massaging and kneading at my flesh unerringly as his other hand still held my shirt in a grip that kept me firmly in place.

Not that I wanted to move—that was the absolute last thing that I wanted—but I was kind of curious as to what had brought this on, and most definitely wanted to be a more active part of whatever was going on.

“B-Bu-Bu-Bu-Bucky?” I finally managed as my hands fisted into the ribbed fabric of his sleeveless undershirt.

“Huh?” Bucky grunted roughly, not bothering to pull away from his ministrations as he did so.

“Can y-you come up here for a s-sec?” I forced my vocal cords to work, even though they didn’t want to.

“Why?” Bucky’s tone was deep and seeped in the raggedness of sex.

“’Cause I wanna ask you somethin’,” I mumbled against his hair, closing my eyes as my penis throbbed in my pants.

“Ugh,” Bucky gave an annoyed sound that fell somewhere between a groan and a sigh, but he pushed himself far enough way that he could look back up at me. His lips were red and swollen and his eyes shone with want and lust, and I gave a small whimper as I leaned down to lick my way into his mouth.

Bucky was clearly surprised by the way that both of his hands gripped their handholds tighter, but pretty soon he was groaning as he kissed me back, and I let myself get lost in the gesture for a moment as I tasted my own salty sweat on his tongue.

“Stevie,” my name was a purr off of his lips as he raked his “fingernails” over my ass, and his eyes flicked up to mine as he kissed along the jut of my jaw. “’Thought you wanted to talk.”

“I d-do,” I swallowed, trying to pull the frazzled parts of my brain together into some semblance of sense as his right hand released my shirt in favor of trailing it’s way down into the front of my pants. Bucky’s lips pulled up in a devilish smirk and his teeth nibbled ever so gently at the skin of my jaw as he ground his palm down against the skin of my erection, and my eyes rolled back into my head as the back of my head collided with the wall once again. “Bastard!”

“Maybe,” Bucky chuckled, his calloused fingers providing sweet relief as they dipped down to rub at my balls. “But I don’t think that was what you wanted to say.”

“Wha’ brought this on?” I tugged on his shirt in lieu of opening my eyes to look back down at him. “Wha’s got you so horny?”

“You,” Bucky’s answer was immediate, and it had my dick dribbling a little bit of pre-come as he let me go long enough to pull back and undo the fastenings on my pants so he had more room to work me over.

“I figured _that_ —“

“You just look so absolutely fuckable dressed up like that,” Bucky’s metal hand resumed its work of kneading at my ass as his teeth sank down into my throat, and I should have known. “Like you could take my cock up your pretty ass right now with no prep or lube at all.”

“Fuck,” I groaned as Bucky’s right hand slipped back down into my underwear and started playing with my penis once again. “Clint’s going to be mad.”

“Don’t care,” Bucky gave my shaft a particularly firm tug, and I automatically pushed my thigh up into his crotch as he ground his still covered cock down against my leg and groaned. “Kids are napping—we’re fine.”

“Alright,” I threw caution to the wind as one of my hands slipped itself down into one of the back pockets of his jeans so I could grab at his ass. “But make it fast—I want to suck you when you’re done.”

“With _pleasure_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway mark—yay! Originally, I only intended to have one first person Steve POV, but this helps to better balance out the word count from the Bucky first person POV, so I figured I would leave it the way that I originally wrote it!  
> The next Prompt is “During Their Morning Rituals”.


	16. During Their Morning Rituals (415)

“Buckkky,” Steve’s beautiful voice sang quietly from somewhere off to Bucky’s right, and Bucky made a soft grunting noise as he squirmed away from Steve’s soothing fingers. “It’s time to get uuuup. We have that meeting with Fury we have to go to.”

“S’cold,” Bucky whined, resituating his pillow jerkily as he scooted even farther away from the Steve. “’Not going.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve’s voice was patient, but his broad palm joined his fingers in rubbing circles over Bucky’s stomach. “It just feels like it ‘cause you’re still laying down.”

“’Xactly,” Bucky mumbled, having already lost track of the conversation as sleep nibbled away at what little consciousness he had. “’Not going. Come back in an hour.”

“Bucky, we need to go to this meeting,” Steve’s voice became a little firmer, and Bucky’s being promptly jolted in surprise as Steve’s hand dipped down to rap around his up-until-that-moment ignored morning wood and promptly palmed the length of his shaft before he skipped all sense of foreplay and pulled back Bucky’s foreskin to play with the extremely sensitive skin of Bucky’s glans underneath. “You’re the one who asked Fury to call it.”

“’Cause you and Wilson need to talk to Ross,” Bucky groaned, the noise falling off into a high-pitched whimper as Steve’s other hand slid down in between his thighs and started playing with his balls. “This isn’t fair!”

“I know,” Steve hummed, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the lower side of Bucky’s ribcage. “But I need you up. C’mon, I’ll finish getting you off in the shower if you get out of bed now.”

“That’s not fair,” Bucky’s bottom lip pushed out into a pout, but he knocked Steve’s hands out of the way nonetheless so he could crawl his way up out of the bed. “Go start coffee, then come back. We’re not leaving until I come.”

“Alright,” Steve chuckled, huffing a sigh as he heaved himself up off the bed. “We’ve got like a half of an hour before we have to leave so you might want to start washing your own hair.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky waved his metal hand through the air as he stepped into the already steamed up bathroom, and let his flesh hand palm absently at his smooth shaft and the wiry hair up towards his base and his swollen balls underneath. “I better smell coffee, mister—or I’m crawling back into bed no matter what I told Fury I was going to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Spooning".


	17. Spooning (1831)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things:  
> One—sorry, this update took so long, medical things happened this past week and they were much worse than I anticipated, but two updates to make up for it (yay)!  
> Two—this Prompt got waaaaay more preach-y than I originally intended it to be, and I don’t mean to offend anyone! This is one very short reaction to an extremely simplified description of something, and Bucky’s frustration is very much because of the subject getting turned back on himself and Steve as a “real” couple, not so much to the concept itself. I originally intended to write just a cute little fluff piece for this, but several other Prompts have cuddling worked into them, and in the interest of staying true to the original challenge, this is what actually came out when I sat down to write this, so here you go! This is another one of those Prompts that misses the “sexy” mark, so I completely understand if you just want to skip it!

“He’s so totally a little spoon—“

“No, he’s not!” Clint argued, voice cracking a little with how emphatic he was.

“Yes, he is!” Natasha argued back, and Steve felt just as confused as Bucky looked as they quietly sat eating their own take out while Clint and Natasha debated over theirs.

“What are you two talking about?” Bruce asked as he wandered into the living room from the communal kitchen with his own plastic tub and chop sticks in hand.

“Superbat,” Natasha spared a second to answer him. “Flamingo over here thinks that Clark is a little spoon, but the correct answer is obviously Bruce, and anybody else who disagrees with me is getting a chopstick through the eye from their troubles.”

“That is not what I said—“

“I see,” Bruce hummed noncommittally as he sat his drink down on the table and settled himself onto the couch beside Steve. Clearly, he sided with Clint on whatever debate they were having by his reluctance to immediately jump in and prove a point, but he was (wisely) remaining mum on the subject, and instead of easing Steve’s curiosity like he’d hoped, that just intrigued and confused him even more. “Well, I guess I will leave you to it then—“

“What is Superbat?” Bucky’s agitated voice cut Bruce off before Bruce could get the rest of his words out, and Steve looked up to his confused face with something between appreciation and pity in his chest. “Is this some kind of new baseball rule I haven’t gotten around to, yet?—and what the heck does it have to do with spoons?”

“Baseball…?” Natasha screwed her face up in confusion as she turned in her seat to look at him over her shoulder over her moment before realization slowly dawned on her and her features relaxed some. “Oh—you mean—“

“Still working on the lingo, ‘Tasha,” Clint cut her off calmly, grabbing himself a bite of his Beef and Peppers with his chopsticks and shoveling it into his mouth as he did so. He took a second to chew and swallow before he went on. “And to answer your question, Bucky—no, it doesn’t have anything to do with baseball. _Spooning,_ as we are using the term, refers to the tendency of two people to defer to the standard back-to-chest cuddling position when they’re in bed together. The “big spoon” is one with their back left open to the cold air—and less obviously to an attack if something were to happen—while the “little spoon” refers to the member of the relationship that gets wrapped up in the other’s arms, and therefore “protected” by the “big” one. You follow me so far?”

“Vaguely,” Bucky nodded his head, the furrow of his eyebrows taking on a more contemplative edge than the confused one it had previously been curved with. Steve’s eyes flicked back to Clint as the archer shifted in his seat—both he and Nat were sitting facing each other with their legs curled around their own respective arm rests—and Steve gave a small nod of his own when Clint’s eyes briefly flicked to his. Mostly Steve hadn’t asked because he just hadn’t cared about what Clint and Natasha were talking, but it was nice to know that at least somebody else had picked up on his confusion besides Bucky. “People are collated into being a “little” spoon or a “big” spoon, and somehow that has some kind of cultural significance?”

“Yes,” Clint nodded his head.

“And the bat?” Bucky asked.

Steve could feel more than see Bruce grin down into his food beside him, but Steve ignored him in favor of watching Clint.

“You’ve heard about the popular comic book characters Batman and Superman, right?” Clint asked. “They’ve been around for about seventy-five/eighty years now. They’ve got all kinds of books and TV shows and—“

“Movies, right?” Bucky cut him off, face relaxing as he quickly took another small bite of his Sa Cha Beef before he went on. “Steve and I sat down and watched one of them a couple of weeks ago! The one with—what was his face? That guy from _The Taming of the Shrew_ … Heath…Ledger? Heath Ledger! It was good! And Stark’s got some posters or something of them down in the lab, right?”

“Yeah,” Clint nodded his head again, and the slight tinge of his cheeks told Steve that he wasn’t going to like wherever this was about to go. “Well, Batman and Superman interact a lot more in the comics and the animated films than they do in the live action films, and some of the things they say and do are slightly… _suggestive_ —that maybe there’s more to their relationship than just the colleagues they pretend to be—and it is a common debate amongst their fans who would be the “big spoon” of the two, and who would be the “little”.”

Things were quiet for a minute as Bucky clearly digested this new information, before he spoke up again, his eyebrows furrowing anew.

“But why?”

“Why what?” Natasha asked, clearly confused herself.

“Why does it matter who is the “big spoon” and who is the “little spoon”? They’re a fictional couple, aren’t they?”

“Well, yes,” Clint shifted again, and Steve knew he was trying to find a way to explain that Bucky would understand. “But part of the appeal of Batman and Superman is that they’re both these nearly unstoppable forces paired up together, and it is interesting to speculate who amongst the two of them would willing take a step back and submit to the other’s will in something as symbolic as that.”

“Well, yes, but Superman is inherently stronger than Batman, unless I’m missing something in my mythos here,” Bucky argued, a tinge of uncertainty coloring his features as he went on. “Strategically speaking, it would make more sense for Superman to be the “big spoon”. There is no submission for Batman in that. I’m not entirely sure I comprehend why this is such a great debate—“

“It extends beyond just cuddling or sleeping, James,” Bruce quietly cut Bucky off, and no matter how many times Steve had heard him refer to Bucky “James”, it was always going to be weird. “Some people also associate the spoons with their respective sexual roles—“big spoons” take control and dominate their “small” or “little” counterparts. Natasha believes that Clark—Superman—would be submissive in his sexual relationships and therefore on the more…receiving end of things, while Clint is ascertaining otherwise.”

“Ah,” Bucky eyes widened in realization as he nodded his head in understanding. “Well, that explains why you guys care so much about who sleeps where, but I still don’t think I get it. Why would Superman and Batman limit themselves to one sexual balance—“

“You mean there isn’t a “little spoon” between you and Steve?” Nat quirked an eyebrow.

“No,” Bucky shook his head, and Steve promptly choked on his bite of chicken because he knew _exactly_ where the conversation was going and his mouth was too full to stop it, and— “Well, I guess if you want to break it down to the most literal sense, Steve prefers to sleep with my arm around his waist because that’s how we used to sleep for practicality before the serum, but it’s nothing more than habit. The thought that something like that could have any influence over our sexual preferences is absolutely ridiculous—“

Bruce clapped Steve’s shoulder sympathetically, but Bucky, Clint, and Natasha went on as if they couldn’t see or hear him.

“—Why the fuck would we let something like ego get in the way of enjoying each other’s bodies? Sex for a power trip isn’t sex, it’s abusive—it doesn’t matter if both of the parties “consent” or not. I can get that maybe some men aren’t comfortable with certain things—or women for that matter—because they don’t ascertain pleasure from them or they take away their own sense of control of their person, but a sexual relationship centered on only one party isn’t healthy for either party involved. And besides, just because Person A allows Person B into their body doesn’t mean that Person B is automatically in control and all Person A can do is lay there and take it until Person B is done.”

“They’re just talking in a figurative sense, Buck,” Steve tried to cut in and defuse the tension before Bucky could take it any further, but he quickly silenced himself as Bucky’s eyes swiveled around to him.

“Yeah, they might be about this whole “Superbat” or whatever the fuck it is thing, but it bled over into reality when Natasha asked about the two of us, and the whole notion is fucked if the evaluation of a person or a character’s sexual preferences is relevant enough to change somebody’s opinion of them as a person or a character,” Bucky countered, and Steve just let him go on—knowing there was no point in trying to stop him. “Furthermore, human beings are complex and fickle creatures, and their desires and actions in life should never be demeaned to a single title or category, and their relationships are no different. A man or a woman is no less of a person for finding comfort in another human’s body or consciousness, regardless of who that person is or how they find that comfort so long as the situation is a healthy one, and even when it is not, a person should not be faulted for having their vices. Someone having a preference for a finger up their ass or a dick down their throat has no power over how they act outside of sexual situations.”

“…He’s got a point,” Natasha broke the tense silence a moment or two later with a small shrug of her shoulder as she turned back to her Chow Mein, and Steve jumped at Clint’s resulting yell.

“I told you the exact same thing two weeks ago just without the fancy words!”

“Oh, look—Clint’s yelling again,” Tony remarked with suppressed sarcasm as he made his way into the room with his own plate balanced on top of his drink in one hand with the universal tower remote in the other. “Wouldn’t be dinner with out that. Anybody else feel like watching a movie? I feel like watching a movie. Mr. Tin-man?”

“A movie’s fine with me,” Bucky shrugged—his indignation at the conversation lost as he took another bite of his food—and Steve quickly lost track of the conversation as he ducked back down into his own food, and tried to forget that the last ten minutes or so of his life hadn’t happened, because Natasha at the very least would be bringing the comments about their sex life back up as fodder later, and Steve really didn’t want to think about that because it wasn’t going to be fun for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Doing Something Together".


	18. Doing Something Together (This Can Be Anything) (434)

“You know, I’m pretty sure this wasn’t what Pepper intended this rug for when she got it?”

Steve and Bucky were laid stretched out on the floor of their living room, Bucky’s fingers in Steve’s hair as Steve’s head rested against his chest, and a dry snort against his bare skin was the answer he got in response.

“Well, you’re probably not wrong, but I don’t particularly care either,” soft lips and a moist tongue on Bucky’s ribs accompanied Steve’s words, and they were the only warning Bucky got before Steve’s teeth sank down into his skin.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned, tightening his hold on Steve as he ducked his face down into the taller man’s blond hair. “Too soon.”

“What are you, an old man?” Steve released his bite in order to lave his tongue over Bucky, and he challenged Bucky flippantly. The two had been pulling out their Christmas decorations, including a nice burgundy and brown rug that Pepper had gifted them the year before, and pretty soon one thing had led to another. As far as Bucky could tell, the come count between the two of them was pretty even, and probably much higher than was healthy for either one of them. The lights from the Christmas tree lit up the apartment beautifully, and Bucky had enjoyed watching the different colors dance over Steve’s skin as he writhed and moaned underneath of Bucky. It wasn’t very often that Steve got like this—completely insatiable in his need for Bucky—but damn if Bucky didn’t enjoy it when he did, and his hips jerked up of their own accord when Steve’s hand slipped from resting on his stomach to palming at his cock.

“Stevie—“

“I want you,” Steve’s voice went from miffed to soft and pleading in three second flat, and that more than anything else had Bucky’s dick swelling against Steve’s strong forearm as Steve fondled his balls and continued to nip and bite marks into Bucky’s skin. “Please, Bucky—“

“Alright,” Bucky gave in to what he knew was going to be a bad idea, and shifted his hold on Steve until he had a good enough grip to hall the larger man up overtop of himself—much to Steve’s pleasure if the soft whine that escaped his lips was any indication—and Bucky settled Steve back down onto his thighs, just below his hardening cock. “But after this we need to stop and get something to eat or one of us is going to pass out from hypoglycemia and that would seriously ruin the buzz we’ve got going on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "In Formal Wear".


	19. In Formal Wear (803)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more Prompts, because I'm still behind schedule!

“Fuck, Bucky,” Steve gasped, rocking his hips up towards Bucky’s as Bucky clenched around him and moaned.  “Fuck, I love you.  Fuck…you bastard—get back here, and kiss me!”

Steve’s hands looped up around Bucky’s back and jerked him forward, pressing them even closer together as Bucky gave a noise somewhere between a keen and a chuckle—he grabbed Steve’s jaw in the same motion and resumed his assault on Steve’s mouth, biting and sucking and licking at whatever he could find as he fucked himself down onto Steve’s cock and moaned.

Stark had thrown another one of his parties, in fact Steve was fairly certain it was still going on overtop of their heads if the swells of laughter and music were any indicators, but neither one of them cared.  Bucky had been down on his knees the second that they’d stumbled back into their apartment, and JARVIS had locked down all of their security measures without asking or waiting for the command.  Both of the men had gotten off twice already—Steve down Bucky’s throat once and then onto the floor again as Bucky fucked himself open on his fingers—but it wasn’t enough for either of them and Bucky still sat in Steve’s lap, hands and body and heat everywhere as he ground his hips down onto Steve’s.

“Oh, Stevie, you feel so good,” Bucky’s eyes rolled back in his head as he barely raised himself up two or three inches before falling back down. Steve drew the tips of his fingernails down Bucky’s back in response, dick throbbing as Bucky arched into the pain and gasped.  “Fuck, just like that!  Fuck, you feel so good. Best I’ve ever had. _Fuck—_ ”

“Only one you’ve ever had,” the growl was off Steve’s chest before he could stop it, but Bucky’s hips just moved faster at the sound of it.  Technically speaking, Steve’s words weren’t true, but as far as Steve was concerned those fuck-brains at HYDRA didn’t count, and Bucky had long since given up trying to convince him otherwise.

“Yes,” Bucky gasped, entire body flexing and moving and straining as he used Steve’s body for his own pleasure.  “Just you—always you, Stevie.  Oh, god!  P-please!”

Steve didn’t know what Bucky was asking for, but his fingernails trailed down around Bucky’s hips and his lips reclaimed Bucky’s, and Bucky’s legs gave out underneath of him for a second and their bare chests and stomachs rubbed together in a way that Steve wasn’t sure they had before as Bucky latched on to the collar of Steve’s shirt with both flesh and metal hands and refused to let him pull away. Steve lost himself for a moment—grabbing at Bucky’s flesh and rocking up into him as best as he could as Bucky groaned and moaned and keened with wet lips against his mouth, until Bucky’s hips slammed back into motion with a jerk and Steve was brought back to reality with the feel of it.

“Fuck, Bucky,” Steve repeated himself, having lost all other words to the slide of Bucky’s ass around himself. “Fuck.”

“Stevie,” Bucky moaned in response, his voice high and cracking with his breath hot and wet against Steve’s ear until finally he threw his head back and writhed in Steve’s lap as his orgasm spurted out in between them. “Ah!”

Steve’s orgasm was tame in comparison, his thighs and calves squeezing taught and sweet relief washing through his being as he watched and felt Bucky come undone around him, but given how the rest of the night had gone, he didn’t think he could have handled anything more than relief, and the little moans and gasps of pleasure Bucky gave as his hips continued to move of their own accord as he milked Steve through his orgasm were more than enough.

“Buck,” the nickname was barely more than a whisper of breath, but Bucky’s blissed out eyes found Steve’s as Steve said it, and he spared a second to smirk breathlessly in response, before his body gave out completely and he slumped down tiredly against Steve’s chest. Steve caught him without hesitation, and immediately made to kiss the top of his head—holding the brunet close as one of his arms wrapped around Bucky’s waist covered shirt and his other hand came up to cradle the back of his head. “Love you, Bucky.”

Semi-meaningless words rolled off of Steve’s lips for a couple of minutes after that—praise and declarations of love and confessions of appreciation—until Bucky shifted and nuzzled up underneath of Steve’s chin, and Steve fell quiet, letting his hands and fingers speak for themselves as Bucky drifted off to sleep in his lap, his unzipped dress pants and ripped open shirt helping to stave off the cold for just a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Dancing".


	20. Dancing (2164)

The air was indisputably cold as we stumbled out of the loud pub and into the quieter atmosphere of the streets. It made sense—it was getting into December after all—but with the heat of so many bodies pressed together at the bar and on the dance floor, it was easy to forget. The place we’d been in wasn’t all that fancy, just a corner spot where all of the soldiers came to get drunk and forget their troubles when they were granted Leave, but the food was good and they always had a live band, so Steve and I had decided to tag along with the rest of the guys for the night. We were leaving in the morning for another mission, but Peg and Colonel Phillips would be around to wake us and neither Steve nor I drank very much, so I wasn’t worried.

There were a couple of people standing around chatting under the street lamps—laughing and joking and smoking as they cooled off in the night air or waited for friends as the muffled music from the pub banged on behind us—but all I could do was smile and give the ones that turned their attention towards us a small little half wave before Steve gave my hand another tug and pulled me down the street with a beaming grin and a giggle.

“Slow down, Captain,” I smacked gently at his back with a grin of my own, ignoring the drunken catcalls of the guys who’d wandered out after us (something about being lightweights and no-funs), but Steve just squeezed my fingers in response and pulled. Without really intending to, I let the jerk of his hand pull me over on top of him as Steve ducked down into the alley three or four buildings past the pub without any warning. Thankfully, he was bigger now and could take my weight, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t suck in a breath and groan when my half-stiff length ground into the back of his hip and his ass as he more or less carried me down the alley. “Fuck, Steve—there a fire or something I don’t know about?”

The tease was off my tongue before I could stop it, and the only response Steve gave was a, “Yep,” accompanied by a grin back at me over his shoulder, before all of a sudden he was reaching around to grab the back of my jacket, and I was knocked breathless as he lifted me over his shoulder and pushed me backwards into one of the brick walls as my feet hit the ground.

“Steve—“ my words cut off at the look in his eyes, and before I knew what was happening, Steve was pressed up against me from head to toe—long and hard and thick in all of the right places—and his tongue was shoved halfway down my throat as his hands found their way up underneath of my jacket and mine found their way to that strong jaw of his. “Mm, Stevie.”

“Buck,” Steve breathed back, barely pulling away to look at me before he dove back in for more kisses. “Please, Buck—please. Let me suck you—want to suck you—please.”

“’Kay,” I was nodding my head before I’d even really processed what he was asking. “If that’s what you want—okay.”

Steve whined in response, a high-pitched noise that had my cock throbbing even before he dropped to his knees in front of me and started pulling at my belt as he pressed opened mouth kisses over my Uniform shirt. The cold air hurt once Steve finally wrenched my belt buckle open and shoved my pants and underwear down out of the way, and once again I was reminded of the inch or two of snow on the ground and just where we were doing this, but I was too hot and bothered to really care, and then Steve was leaning forward to take my cock in his mouth—my poor abused member that had been hard for nearly the last two hours straight as Steve and I twirled around the dance floor, putting on a show for the rest of the guys while they marveled at how well we moved together—and nothing else mattered. Nothing else mattered but the slide of Steve’s tongue and the wet pucker of those pretty little lips and the memory of Steve’s body pressed all over—corded muscle and supple flesh, supporting me and warming me from the inside out just as much as from the outside in, even as Steve moved and manipulated himself in the most delicate of ways to allow me the freedom to move around him in intricate holds and steps without being hindered.

Dancing with Steve was beautiful, one of my absolute most favorite things to do, but it was torture. Not being able to kiss him and talk to him thee way that I wanted to. Not being able to slide my thigh up in between his legs and grind it up against his cock in that way that drove him crazy. Not being able to tip my head back and groan as his big hands travelled all over my body in a ghost of the way they did when we were tangled in bed together and moving against each other… Because then people would talk, and no matter how open and welcoming people were once we got to know them, we couldn’t let them talk.

I wasn’t exactly sure when, but somewhere along the lines my hips started moving of their own accord, gentle little thrusts as far as Steve would allow from where he still boxed me into the wall with his height and weight, and Steve gave an appreciative moan in response that had me groaning as I ran my hands through his hair. Once upon a time, I would have been talking—saying whatever came to mind to help encourage Steve to get through it—but it seemed he didn’t need that as much anymore, now that he was bigger, so I just let myself enjoy it for a moment with my choked off groans and grunts and gasps filling the empty spaces between us.

One of Steve’s hands was everywhere, petting and squeezing everything from my ass to the bend of my thigh to my ball sack slapping against his chin, but somewhere along the lines I noticed the other one had gone away. I gave it a couple of thrusts to see if it would come back on his own—if Steve wasn’t touching me, I had no idea what he could he be doing with it—but then I finally got impatient and looked down for it, only to follow the moving line of Steve’s arm down out of my sight to what could have only been his own cock and I gripped onto Steve’s shoulders to try to keep myself steady as my orgasm hit me with a strangled yell through the night as I realized what he was doing.

Things were blurry for a while after that. Steve’s orgasms had always been on the calmer side of things, even when he’d had other medical issues to go along with them, like his asthma and tremors, but mine had always been wild and intense—tearing through my being and affecting my mind and body and soul without prejudice as I lost control of my limbs and pulsed with energy for anywhere from five minutes to fifteen before the haze finally started to recede. I had always been a sexual being, even before Steve had finally broken down and told me about his true feelings and given me somebody to share that aspect of myself with, but New Steve was something else, and while I’d always loved him no matter what he looked like, I couldn’t help but think that maybe this was the way it was supposed to be. Steve and I as equals on every level and not just an emotional one.

The one thing that did make it through my fog filled brain was Steve pulling off of my cock and throwing his head back as he shuttered through an orgasm of his own, but I couldn’t feel my limbs to do anything about it other than listen and go back to carding my fingers through his hair. Steve stared up at the sky when he was done, tiny little snowflakes dancing around the edges of his face and landing on his swollen lips as he panted into the night, before he finally looked back down to tuck himself back into his pants. A second later he was back up on his feet, pushing into my personal space as he pulled my underwear and pants back up and redid by buttons and belt, and once again before I knew what was happening, his lips were on mine and I was licking my way back into his mouth.

This kiss was much lazier than the other ones had been—no real need or fire behind our actions as we stood necking and petting at each other’s shoulders and chests and stomachs—but that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it. Semen wasn’t my favorite flavor in the world, but at least the fluid-like substance I felt and tasted had come from my own body, and if Steve was willing to put up with it, I figured I owed it to him to put up with him putting up with it. The slow slide of our tongues against each other drew out my bliss longer than it usually would have lasted, especially considering the cold and the scenery around us, but I trusted Steve’s judgment that we were safe, and I really didn’t care if we weren’t, if I was being honest. I’d faced death so many times since I’d left Brooklyn—all of those months cooped up while that bastard experimented on and tortured me—and honestly being beaten up in an alley by some thugs didn’t seem so bad compared to that. Not if I had Steve by my side.

“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” Steve finally pulled back far enough to look at me, the moonlight sparkling off of his still wet lips from directly above. “So damn hot, Buck.”

“You’re carrying me back to base,” was totally not what I had planned on saying in response, but a second after the words were out of my mouth Steve was pulling back and laughing—a real laugh that split a smile across his face and shook his shoulders as he looked up at the clouds before looking back to me, and I found myself grinning back at him and giggling a little bit too.

“Really?”

“Yes,” I nodded my head, shifting our hands out to the side so I could lace our fingers together, because now that I’d said it, I’d realized— “I still can’t feel my feet, and with my luck my legs’ll give out two blocks from the edge of town and you’ll be too busy laughing your ass off to go get me help when I fall and break my hip.”

“Alright, alright,” Steve rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling as he ducked back down to kiss me again. The shortest and chaste-est kiss that we’d shared since he’d pulled me from the pub—just a long lingering seal of our lips that lacked the tongues we’d battled with earlier. “C’mon.”

This time I knew what Steve was going to do when he dropped my hands and reached for my coat as he turned around and bent down, but that didn’t mean I was anymore prepared for it than I had been the first. With a grunt of effort, he used my coat to jerk me forward onto his shoulders and hips and lifted me up off the ground as he stood back up. I let out a noise of surprise as he did so—like I said, just because I knew it was coming, didn’t mean I was ready for it—but quickly settled back down as Steve kept his hold long enough for me to get my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist, before he let go to settle his hands under my thighs to help hold my weight.

“Comfortable?” he quirked an eyebrow over his shoulder at me.

“Yep,” I found myself giggling, smiling softly as I leaned down to press quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You good?”

“Yep,” Steve nodded his head, and it was more his facial expression than anything else that told me he was blushing.

“Then, let’s go,” I decided against mentioning it, as I settled myself back on his back. “I’ve got a favor I have to return, and we’ve only got so much time before we’ve got to report in tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, Bucky’s first person POV! Also, blow jobs.
> 
> The next Prompt is "Cooking/Baking".


	21. Cooking/Baking (1714)

Steve jumped as Bucky’s chest and stomach pressed up against his back, and his hands encircled Steve’s hips out of nowhere, but then he relaxed again, leaning back against the body caging him in to the counter as Bucky pressed chuckling kisses to the back of his neck and continued to run his hands over Steve’s hips, “Did I scare you there, Rogers?”

“Little bit,” Steve admitted with a small chuckle of his own, more or less ignoring Bucky’s hands as he smiled back at Bucky. The kitchen smelled strongly of fresh pizza sauce and yeast, and Steve’s hands were still covered in flour and raw dough as what would eventually become the crust for their dinner sat rising in a bowl in front of him. “But that’s alright. Did you enjoy your shower?”

“Would have been better if you were there,” Bucky shrugged, nibbling on the juncture between Steve’s neck and shoulder in between his words as he reveled in the heat radiating off of the pre-heating oven. His wet hair tickled at Steve’s skin and smelled of shampoo, but Steve didn’t care. “But…it wasn’t too bad. How much longer until dinner’s going to be ready?”

“Oh, probably about an hour now—“

“Boo,” Bucky sniffed unhappily, but Steve just chuckled in response as he went on.

“—The dough still has to rise, but it shouldn’t be very long after that. Maybe forty-five minutes in all? An hour? Is that okay with you?”

“Actually, yes,” Bucky hummed, but Steve wasn’t particularly surprised. Bucky’s fingers were getting more and more ambitious in their touches, skirting down closer to Steve’s crotch and up underneath of Steve’s t-shirt to Steve’s bare skin the longer that they talked, and…yep, that was Bucky’s swelling dick pressing up in between his ass cheeks through their sweatpants, and—

“Please, Buck,” the plea was off of Steve’s lips before he could stop it, and Bucky let out a preening noise in response, the dough on the counter in front of them forgotten as Steve pushed back against Bucky and widened his stance so that Bucky’s hands had better access to his crotch.

Bucky took advantage of the invitation with out hesitation, and a second later Steve was letting out a low-pitched groan as Bucky slid a hand down in between Steve’s legs and palmed at his leaking cock and squeezed at his swollen balls through the thick material of his sweat pants.

“Bucky—“ Steve started to whine, but quickly cut off with a gasped choke as Bucky’s teeth sank down into his shoulder in a bite and his hand tightened painfully on Steve’s dick. “B-Buck?”

“Behave!” Bucky ordered, grinding his hips up into Steve’s ass, and Steve understood. Bucky was in control of what was happening, and Steve had to go along with whatever the other man wanted, otherwise he wasn’t getting off…which was perfectly fine with Steve, because Bucky was wonderful when he got all hot and bothered and controlling like that, and all of it just made Steve throb that much harder.

“Okay,” he agreed, grinding his ass back into Bucky to goad the shorter man back into kissing his neck. “Whatever you want, I’m yours.”

“Good boy,” Bucky hummed, pushing up on his toes to lick at Steve’s ear as he restarted his ministrations—grinding his cock that much harder into Steve’s ass while Steve moaned and sweated in his arms, unable to do anything with his own hands for fear of getting either one of them dirty.

“Fuck, Bucky,” Steve swore, head lulling to the side to give Bucky better access as the brunet reattached his lips and his teeth to Steve’s neck.

“Does that feel good?” he could _feel_ Bucky’s smirk as the man paid particular attention to the very tip of his cock.

“Yes,” the whine in his answer was unmistakable, but Steve really, _really_ didn’t care. “Oh, God—Buck, please! More!”

Steve begged, but Bucky hands stayed where they were, refusing to give Steve what he wanted as he continued to assault the tip of Steve’s dick with the quick, assured touches of his cupped fingers and his palm, and rocked his beautiful cock up against Steve’s ass, “No—”

The refusal had another moan slipping past Steve’s lips.

“This is all you get,” Bucky elaborated, lengthening the slide of his strokes to include the entirety of Steve’s all too happy member as he spoke. “Just my hand over your pants and my cock against your ass—marking you as mine while you stand there and take it. That’s all the stimulation you’re going to get, and you’re going to come for me… _hard_.”

Bucky accentuated the word with a particularly firm grind of his hips, his front pressed entirely up against Steve’s back, and Steve pushed his weight back on to him, preening at the implication of the words just as much as he did for the stimulation itself.

“Who do you belong to?”

The words were just words. Far too much had happened to both Steve and Bucky in their pasts for either one of them to truly give up control of any part of themselves to anybody else, but if there were ever an exception for Steve, it would have been—

“You,” he gasped, his weight shifting to one foot as the other came up off of the ground of it’s own accord and his hands gripped at the edge of the counter—both as a way to keep himself balanced and to release some of the tension that was building in his body from not being able to turn around and face Bucky or touch the man who was pleasuring him so thoroughly. “You, Buck. ‘M all yours—a-always have been. From the day I m-met you.”

That was an exaggeration. Steve had been far too young to feel or understand such a thing when his and Bucky’s paths had collided, but not by much, and he’d never allowed another person to see or manipulate him the way he let Bucky on a near-nightly basis. Never.

“Good boy,” Bucky’s praise rumbled out of his chest in a purr, and Steve felt it just as much as he heard it—both in the vibrations of the torso behind him and from the way that Bucky’s palm pushed that much harder into his cock. Steve had started rocking his hips almost as soon as they’d started, fucking himself up into Bucky’s hand and rubbing back against Bucky’s cock in a pace that matched Bucky’s, but Bucky’s hips followed after him without fail, and Steve let out a guttural groan at all of the stimulation.

“B-Bucky, I’m not going to last.”

“That’s okay,” Bucky ducked down to press his forehead against Steve’s shoulder blade as the speed of his hand and hips ticked up a fraction of a click. “You’re allowed to come whenever—’m not going to stop you. Whenever you want. Just keep doing whatever you need ‘s long as don’t touch yourself.”

“A-ah!” Steve keened at the liberation of Bucky’s words, his hips jerking harder and faster and larger of their own accord.

“Jus’ like that,” Bucky praised, his teeth pulling another groan out of Steve’s throat as they sank into the thick muscle of his back and the cotton of his tank top before disappearing again. “C’me on, Stevie. Ge’ yourself off like the good boy you are. I know you c’n do it.”

“Buck,” Steve whined again, one of his hands coming up to grip onto the forearm of the hand that Bucky had wrapped around Steve’s waist back at the very beginning.

“Just a little more, Stevie,” Bucky’s lips were back up at Steve’s ear, his wet breath sending shivers down Steve’s back as the elder man spoke. “You’re so close, baby doll. I can _feel_ you—“

And just like that, Steve’s entire body was snapping taught and his orgasm was washing over him with a rough shout, and Bucky’s hand pushed down the waistbands of his sweatpants and boxers just in time for Steve to avoid coming inside them.

Everything was a staggering mix of euphoric and blurry for a good five or ten minutes after that, but Bucky continued to pump Steve’s cock and ball sack through Steve’s orgasm, until they had softened in his hand and Steve’s legs had more or less given out from underneath of him. Steve could still feel Bucky’s softening cock sliding lazy up against his backside as he sagged back into Bucky’s arms, but it wasn’t very long before Bucky’s hips came to a stop and he started rocking Steve from side-to-side instead.

“You were a good boy,” Steve couldn’t help but smile as Bucky nuzzled down into his neck and let Steve’s cock go in favor of wrapping his right arm up around Steve’s waist with his left. “You were a messy boy, but…a good boy nonetheless.”

“Why, thank you, soldier,” Steve turned his head to press a kiss to the top of Bucky’s head, and he was pleasantly assaulted by the smell of Bucky’s sweat and shampoo once again as his still dough-covered fingers started drawing meaningless circles over Bucky’s forearm. Thankfully, the counter was reinforced for security reasons, but Steve was almost afraid to look down in case he’d done something that he would regret in his desperate state.

“We’re doing that again later on,” was the only response Bucky gave, and Steve barked a laugh and smiled as the motion carried them a little farther to one side than Bucky had been swaying them. “But next time you’re going to be tied to our headboard…and I’m going to actually be inside you…and I’m going to suck you off first…maybe twice…”

“Alright,” Steve agreed, turning in Bucky’s arms enough to actually press a kiss to his kiss swollen lips. “If that’s what you want…but we should eat dinner first…and you need another shower.”

“That I do, love,” Bucky agreed, grimacing at the feeling of come in his boxers. “That I do. Do me a favor and clean up the cabinet while you finish the pizzas?”

“Sure thing,” Steve agreed, turning back to the pizza dough in front of him as Bucky pulled back, only to jump when Bucky’s hand collided with ass and squeezed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "In Battle, Side-by-Side".


	22. In Battle, Side-by-Side (3676)

“This uniform is stupid,” Steve glared down at the sparkly blue and red suit adorning his body with something equivalent to disdain, and Bucky smiled from where he was standing over top of him.

“I know, Stevie,” Bucky tried to sound sympathetic, but Steve could still see the mirth in Bucky’s eyes when he lifted his head back up to look up at Bucky from the chair he was sitting in. “But it’ll only be a couple more hours now and you’ll be able to take it off.”

Tony and Ross had thought that with the Avengers getting bigger and taking a more prominent role in the US Foreign and Domestic Defense policies, they should do some press—a series of pictures for banners and billboards and the like across the US, so Steve was stuck in a pretty “uniform” so unlike his own with the rest of the Avengers posing in front of cameras and saying stupid taglines with the rest of his “coworkers”, while Bucky sat off to the side with a bored expression on his face because Tony and Ross didn’t think that he was “right” for the image that the publicist was going for.

Steve thought that was complete and utter bullshit because Bucky did just as much as the rest of them and he always interacted so well with the public when he was in uniform, but Tony and Ross had declared that they had the final say, so Steve had contented himself by bringing Bucky along and glaring at Ross every chance he got.

Bucky seemed pretty alright with it—and in a way Steve was sure that he was (stupid costumes and pretty smiles were something that they both hated, and had more than their fair share of back in the forties)—but Steve could also see the way his face fell when he thought no one was looking, and Steve didn’t like that.

The photographer had needed a break while the stage hands set up the next set, so the heroes had all been directed to change their outfits and have their hair and make-up touched up until everything was ready. Peter, Vision, Natasha, Clint, Sam, T’Challa, and Dr. Strange all tolerated the crew’s presence with poise (if not a sense of skepticism hidden beneath their polite exteriors), while Tony, Carol, Rhodes, and Scott preened underneath of the attention and sat around flirting with the crew as much as they did anything else.

Steve, for his part in all of it, had stayed as far away from the others as possible, refusing the crew’s help as he quickly changed himself into his new outfit and settled down into a seat to wait away from the rest with Bucky. Bucky had stayed standing beside him and the two had continued talking until Bucky had idly picked up some makeup and some brushes from the vanity to Steve’s left and started touching up Steve’s makeup. The two had been in charge of their own wardrobe and makeup on set back when they’d done promo stuff with the Howlies, or they’d maybe had one or two nurses running around trying to help all of them on their time off from the hospitals, so Steve and Bucky had gotten pretty good at making one another presentable long before the Avengers (and most of it’s members) were even a thing. Wade was buzzing around—poking at Peter and making him laugh—and he’d swung by a couple of times to make sure the two were okay, but other than that, everybody else pretty much left Steve and Bucky alone, and Steve was perfectly okay with that.

“I mean, seriously,” Steve went on, playing with a random piece of plastic between his fingers as Bucky blended shades of something or other on the back of his hand before he looked back up at Steve and Steve tilted his chin up obligingly for Bucky to brush his concoction over Steve’s lips. “Captain America doesn’t wear _glitter_.”

“Well, apparently, he does,” Bucky’s words were teasing, and Steve thought he was too focused on whatever he was doing to miss Steve’s pout, but apparently he wasn’t, because a second later he was chuckling as he dropped the brush that he was working with and grabbed another one, along with another compact of makeup. “But seriously, babe. Pepper said there were only four different sets when I talked to her about it earlier this morning, and you’re on the third one now, so it can’t be that much longer.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve continued to pout, but the light touch of Bucky’s fingers over his face as he spread and smudged the concealer (or whatever it was called) over Steve’s skin calmed and soothed Steve as the other man worked, and before Steve knew it, he found himself sighing. “You know I’m sorry about all of this, right?”

“I do,” Bucky nodded, his features softening as he bit his bottom lip and smudged at a spot on Steve’s chin. “But it’s not your fault.”

“I know,” Steve tilted his head to the side a little bit as he looked up at his life-long friend and partner. “But still. I’m looking forward to being done and getting out of here. Tony’s got some kind of after party planned at some kind of club, but I already told him I can’t go.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed a bit as he looked up to meet Steve’s gaze, but Steve just rolled his eyes.

“Oh, please,” he reached out to flick Bucky’s thigh as Bucky reached back down to the vanity at their side and started looking around for something else. “You know I wouldn’t want to go anyway—you’re just giving me a good excuse to say no. Besides, it’s not very often you and I get a night off anymore. Maybe we can find some really fancy place to go out to eat, and order steaks and lobsters and shrimp cocktails and put it all on Tony’s card, and then when we’re done, we can find some steamy dance studio and dance la tango de la muerte and fall madly in love and—“

“Some chicken fingers and fries will do just fine for me, thanks,” Bucky smirked, giving Steve a look as he brushed some mascara over Steve’s eyelashes.

“Done,” Steve agreed with a single nod of his head, and a second later he was pushing himself up onto his feet and into Bucky’s personal space.

“What are you—“ Bucky only got about half of his question out before Steve was pressing their lips together and wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist, and Bucky was letting out a small moan as he recovered from his shock and started kissing Steve back—fumbling to close the container of mascara behind Steve’s back before he dropped it down onto the vanity and reached up on his toes to grab Steve’s face and pressed their chests and stomachs together as their tongues slid wet and hot along one another.

“I want to go home,” the _with you_ went without saying, but Bucky heard it nonetheless as Steve rested their foreheads together and rocked them back and forth gently from side to side.

“You’re messin’ up your makeup,” was the response Bucky hummed, but he pressed their lips back together in a sweet peck regardless of his own warning.

“Don’t care,” Steve shook his head, holding Bucky close as he inhaled the shorter man’s spicy scent. No matter what Bucky did, he always smelled like metal and gunpowder and cinnamon and pine and sweat, and Steve loved it. Bucky’s thumb followed not too long after their third kiss, brushing along the bottom edge of Steve’s lip, and Steve knew that Bucky was wiping away smeared lipstick—could see the red on the shorter man’s lips, and without thinking, Steve reached up to wipe at it absently as he went on. “Nothin’s worth keeping me away from you.”

“You’re a sap, Steven Rogers,” Bucky’s grip tightened on Steve’s shirt, but he giggled underneath of Steve’s hands so Steve didn’t care.

“Yeah, I know—“ Steve was about to say something back, something really cool that would have redeemed himself in the eyes of the All-Father and had Bucky just swooning in Steve’s grip, but then somebody—the photographer’s assistant—turned on the megaphone that was much too loud for the small space they were in and announced, “Five minutes until the start of Part Three—will all superheroes please make your way to the set so we can get you into place for the photographer?”

And Steve groaned.

“Really?” he complained. “ _Now_?”

“Yes, Stevie,” Bucky chuckled, and he was already pulling away and smoothing out the front of Steve’s suit as Steve reached down for his shield instinctively. Ross had wanted to keep it locked away somewhere in some vault, but Steve had refused to let it leave his sight (at least metaphorically speaking, he didn’t take it with him _everywhere_ ), and therefore it was the only part of his actual suit that was being used in the promotional stuff, though Steve knew it would probably be photo shopped and other fancy things to look better after they were done. “It’s not just you here trying to do stuff. Lots of people have put a lot of time into this, and you need to respect that.”

“I don’t want to,” Steve whined, but he knew Bucky was right and obediently tipped his chin up once again for Bucky to continue his work.

“Just keep your mind on the chicken fingers,” Bucky teased patiently as his fingers moved nimbly over catches and buttons at Steve’s throat, flesh and metal alike. “Chicken fingers make everything better.”

“That they do,” Steve found himself agreeing as Bucky finally finished on his collar and smoothed his hands down the front of his suit, fingers splaying comfortingly over Steve’s broad shoulders and chest as they did.

“Four minutes!” somebody yelled in the background, but Steve hardly cared.

“Thank you for doing my makeup,” he took a half step closer to Bucky instead.

“You’re welcome,” Bucky smiled, letting go of Steve’s chest in favor of reaching up to fidget with Steve’s hair. “I’m just happy I could help—“

“Rogers—get your ass over here!”

“I’m coming!” Steve didn’t mean to snap, but Bucky was still giving him a flat look when his face came back into focus from where he’d rolled his eyes. Natasha did a double take from across the room where she’d hollered at him, but she quickly shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the set, so Steve didn’t think she was going to hold it against him.

“Steven,” Bucky chided.

“Sorry,” Steve apologized, and Bucky had opened his mouth to say something else in response, but before he could respond, a movement from outside of the large windows behind Bucky’s back caught Steve’s eye, and Steve was hollering, “GET DOWN!”

Steve’s warning didn’t do the rest of the room any good, but he just managed to get his arm and his shield up over Bucky’s head as an explosion went off outside of the windows and the entire wall came crashing in.

The world was lost to Bucky’s yell and the heat of the blast for a moment, but when Steve came back to reality he was laying on the floor with the broken vanity on top of him as Bucky laid off to the side, screaming as his metal arm jerked at an awkward angle.

“B-buck?” Steve tried to call the other man’s name, but his voice barely came out a hoarse whisper, and he could barely hear the word himself. Steve continued to squint and try to make sense of what he was seeing before him through the haze of the smoke and the blood pounding in his ears, but his attention was quickly pulled away by the men in masks stalking around the room and his downed teammates across the way.

Steve had no idea who the men were, but he quickly realized whatever was going on wasn’t good. The bad guys had mostly let him go unscathed—the vanity over top of him giving him the appearance of being down and out for the count—but the rest of the team was struggling. Bucky seemed to have it the worst with some kind of a Taser device attached to his arm, electrocuting him and overloading the sensors in the arm and therefore the wires that HYDRA had fused with his nervous system.

Tony and Rhodes were both under the rubble from the ceiling and the set, but their suits were mostly for show, and did little aside from protecting Tony and Rhodes from damage.

Steve couldn’t see Peter, but Wade was laying with one arm crushed underneath of a large pile of rubble with his other arm and it’s matching leg ripped off, so Steve could only assume Peter was lying underneath of the rubble unconscious. Ross was over by the door, having been saved from the worst of the blast with the crew that didn’t lay unconscious on the floor, but five men with guns surrounded them, and they were helpless given the odds.

Clint and Tasha laid out in the open, cut and bruised up, but mostly all right from the blast. Their bodies were shaking in the same manner that Bucky’s arm was—at a lesser degree—and Steve could only assume that they’d been Taser-ed as well.

Steve’s attention quickly flew to T’Challa, but he was lying unconscious near Wade and the pile of rubble that Steve assumed contained Peter. A quick scan of his body showed little to no damage, but blood trickled out of a gash on his forehead and Steve was reminded once again that they were all wearing props and not their real suits.

Steve didn’t know how the men had disabled Carol, Strange, and Vis, but the three knelt on the ground with looks of pure shock and terror on their faces as four or five men stood guard over top of them, and their message was clear. The men had overpowered them easily, and they had no idea how the men had done it.

Scott sat kneeled at T’Challa’s side, probably trying to make sure he was okay, but Steve’s attention was quickly brought back to the standing men as Bucky cried out again. One quick look in his direction told Steve that the electrical shocks from the device had kicked up a notch, but Bucky was still fighting them—working through the pain as he tried to put some sort of a plan together—and that was all Steve needed.

Three seconds later he was pushing the vanity up off of himself and kicking it into one of the passing sentries as he flipped himself up on to his feet. Without hesitating, Steve unclipped the shield from his arm and threw it at the stunned guard standing overtop of Bucky as another one of the guards took a surprised swing at his face.

Steve ducked under the punch immediately, and reached up to catch the man off guard with a punch to the underneath side of his chin. Five seconds later, Bucky gave one last feral snarl as he ripped the device off of his metal arm with his flesh hand, and the nearest guard screamed out in pain as Bucky threw the device at his face. Ten seconds later confirmed that Bucky had gotten himself up off the ground with the clanking of Steve’s shield as Bucky scooped it up off of the floor and drove it into the helmet of one of the guards standing over Ross and the other bystanders. While the first two guards that Steve had taken down had gone down rather easily, most of that was due to the element of surprise on Steve’s behalf, and that advantage very quickly slipped away. Within five seconds of the second guard hitting the floor, three more were coming at Steve with knives and guns blazing, and all of Steve’s attention was focused on them and the guards that followed as he tried not to get himself killed.

Somewhere along the lines he heard Clint grunt as he removed the Taser from his body and Natasha’s faint scream as he ripped hers off of her own, but they’d both sustained far too much damage for them to jump back up into the fight, and Steve didn’t hold it against Clint for staying by Natasha’s side as she thrashed and writhed on the floor in aftershocks of pain.

Once again, the world came down to snicks and bashes as Steve fought for his life against thugs that remained unnamed, but this time the only back-up Steve had was Bucky, and he quickly forwent his preferences for sparing lives as he simply tried to keep himself and his colleagues alive. More than once, Steve found himself backed into a metaphorical corner with goons all around him, as he dodged bullets and swung out aimlessly with his feet and his fists in hopes of making contact with something.

Steve had no idea who the men were or who they were working for, but he did know that they were good, and Steve had no doubt what their intentions were. Whether the Avengers liked to think about it or not, there were people in the world who were interested in taking the Avengers for their own—making them mindless slaves for whatever their masters biddings were—and Steve knew the men wouldn’t have attacked if they didn’t have access to that kind of technology, otherwise they wouldn’t have hesitated to start killing people as soon as they disabled Captain Marvel and Dr. Strange and the rest.

Bucky fought fearlessly across the room from Steve, focusing on luring the men away from their posts as he used Steve’s shield for a minute before he threw it back over to the taller man, but Steve couldn’t spare him much more than a thought as he focused on the men coming after him, and caught the shield out of it the air. It was only after he was back on the floor again that Bucky danced back into his vision again, fighting hand to hand with two different men as three converged on Steve. One of the two had gotten their arms around Bucky’s neck and shoulders, trying to choke the brunet out, but Bucky simply used the man’s grip to his advantage and hooked his legs up and around the second man and squeezed at the man’s neck with his thighs as he brought all three of them to the ground. Bucky grunted with the impact—all three of the men did—but he quickly recovered his bearings and rolled until he was on his side, taking the other two men with him as his thighs tightened around the one man’s neck and cut off his air supply as the man struggled. His bionic fist quickly smashed up into the face of the man still attached to his own neck, and the man released Bucky’s neck in shock as he yelled in pain.

Bucky quickly bent himself in half and groped blindly at the lower half of the man between his legs before he straightened back out with a gun in his hand and shot at the three men over top of Steve before he turned his attention back to his own adversaries. Two of the men fell, but one of them still snarled at Steve. One-on-one were odds that Steve could handle though, and it only took him a moment or two to knock the man unconscious. Not even a second later, Bucky was slumping back down against the floor, one of his legs still trapped underneath of the strangled man as the other one lay bleeding out above his head, and Bucky panted and gasped at air as if it were water and he hadn’t had anything to drink in days.

“Bucky?” Steve took one more look around the room, just to make sure they hadn’t missed any of the bad guys, but Ross and the rest of the innocents were already starting to get back up, and it seemed as if the superheroes were in the process of regaining their powers, Carol glowing as Dr. Strange muttered something under his breath with a look of intense concentration on his face as Vision stared down at his own limbs as if he couldn’t believe they were his.

Steve could feel eyes on himself and on Bucky as the others processed what had just happened and what they’d just seen Steve and Bucky do, but Steve didn’t care. Didn’t care about them, or the piece of wood sticking out of his leg, or the broken bones he could already feel mending through out his body. He just swiveled his head around towards his partner and scrambled to roll himself over.

“Bucky?”

Bucky grunted in response, but gave no further indication that he’d heard as Steve struggled to push himself up, and eventually gave up in favor of dragging himself over towards Bucky’s body with his hands on the floor and downed goons’ bodies.

“Buck—Buck, are you okay? What happened? _Buck_?”

“’M fine, Stev’e,” Bucky managed to choke out as Steve finally managed to push himself up over top of Bucky’s body and looked down at the man underneath of him as best as he could, and Steve gave a big sigh of relief as Bucky’s hand landed gracelessly on his bicep. “’M fine.”

Without regard for the rest of the recovering room, Steve reached down underneath of Bucky’s body and jerked the older man up into his arms, and both of the two fell back down to the ground, squeezing the living daylights out of each other as they rolled around and thanked everything above that they could that they had both made it out alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La tango de la muerte is a Simpsons reference (and more importantly than that, Steve and Bucky are aware that they are referencing The Simpsons).
> 
> The next Prompt is "Arguing".


	23. Arguing (1750)

“Not bad for my first mission, don’t you think?” Steve asked no one in particular as the men sat there, looking at the smoke swirling and curling amongst the snowflakes in the distance.

“That was your first mission?” one of the guys—Jim, if Steve was remembering his name right—asked incredulously.

“Yep,” Steve couldn’t help but beam. He wasn’t really one for showing off or expecting anything in return for the things he did, but…even though it hadn’t been perfect, he’d accomplished the goal that he’d set out with in mind, and he’d saved a lot more people than he’d originally thought he was going to, and that felt good.

“But I thought you said you’d knocked Hitler a hundred times?” another one of them—Dum-Dum—questioned with a furrowed eyebrow. “How could you have done that without having been on a mission?”

“I—“

“Rogers!” thankfully, Steve was saved from having to answer that question by Bucky calling his name. One look up at the man as he marched through the small little “camp” they’d made to rest for a couple of minutes before they continued on their way told Steve that Bucky was mad, and Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion back at him. “Can I speak with you a minute?”

“Yeah, sure thing, Buck—just—what are you—hey!”

Instead of allowing Steve to finish whatever he was going to say like a civilized human being, Bucky just reached up and grabbed Steve roughly by the front of his shirt and started pulling Steve across the camp towards the trees. For a second, Steve was too surprised by the sheer strength of Bucky’s grip to do anything other than stumble after him, but indignation quickly reared it’s ugly head and Steve was scowling at the back of Bucky’s head as more than a few men turned in their direction. Bucky didn’t seem to be bothered by either Steve’s protests or the curious eyes, because pretty soon the two were in the middle of nowhere with the camp well out of ear shot and barely a, “Stay here,” thrown over their shoulders at the rest before suddenly Bucky was spinning Steve around and slamming him into a tree.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?”

Steve had long since adjusted to his improved low-light vision, but the sheer fury on Bucky’s face had him freezing in his place as the other pushed right up into his face until their noses were brushing and their chests were pressed up against each other, and he was brutally reminded that Bucky probably couldn’t see all that much except what the moon illuminated for him.

“Bucky—what are you talking about?” he asked.

“ _You_!” Bucky answered, his eyes leaving Steve’s face long enough to look down at Steve’s body as the hand in Steve’s jacket gave a sharp tug, and suddenly Steve understood. “Whatever the fuck led to _this_. What did you _do_? I left home and you were small and I very _specifically_ told you not to do anything stupid—“

“Calm down, Buck,” Steve rolled his eyes and the back of his head collided with the bark of the tree as his body relaxed. “It’s not that big of a deal. This scientist—Dr. Erskine—was poking around asking for some guys to audition for this thing and—“

“Not that big of a deal?” Bucky cut him off, and Steve’s eyes obediently flicked back down to look at the man, but instead of his words placating Bucky like Steve thought, Bucky just seemed even angrier than he was before, and that didn’t make sense. “ _Not that big of a day?_ _Steven Grant Rodgers, you could have_ —wait a…wait a minute—you just said scientist didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah—Dr. Erskine—“

“You let them inject stuff into you?” Bucky’s eyes widened even farther as he looked up at Steve, and Steve would have laughed if Bucky didn’t pull back long enough to yank him away from the tree and shoved him backwards into it again. “YOU LET THEM INJECT STUFF INTO YOU, _DIDN’T YOU?_ ”

Steve didn’t answer, but then again he didn’t have to as the silence stretched out in between the two of them, and suddenly he felt very cold in the late September air as Bucky released his jacket and stepped away.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Bucky swore, pushing a hand back through his bangs. “Steven Grant— _Fuck!”_

Not for the first time, Steve felt awkward in his new body, and his cheeks burned more than usual. Steve had thought that Bucky would be happy—that he would be thankful that Steve had found a way to come join him and then save him from the Nazis, but clearly Bucky wasn’t and all of a sudden Steve felt like crying and—

Before Steve could think or do anything else, Bucky had a hold of his jacket again and was crowding him back into the tree.

“ _What the fuck were you thinking?_ ” he hissed out through his teeth, but his hand released and clenched over Steve’s jacket almost like a cat’s paw trying to knead something. “They could have _killed_ you, Stevie. Where do we have to go to get you fixed? Who did this to you?”

“Fixed?” for the first time, Steve was really invested in the conversation, and he felt his own fist clenching over the warm material of Bucky’s jacket as his eyebrows pinched in confusion. “Bucky—what are you talking about, where do we need to go to get me “fixed”? There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“ _Yes_ , there _is_ , Steve,” Bucky ground and Steve was thankful for the anger starting to burn in his stomach, otherwise he probably would have done something stupid like leaned down and bit at the scruffy planes of Bucky’s jaw. “You are _gigantic_ and you’re running into fucking _HYDRA_ bases without back up and you have… _serums_ floating around in your body all willy-nilly and we have no idea what the fuck they will do to you. You can pretend all you want that this is wonderful and the greatest thing that’s ever happened, but we are taking you back to whatever science lab you crawled out of and we are fixing you.”

“Bucky, we can’t just leave—you’re a Sargent and we’re in the middle of a war—“

“ _Fuck_ the army—“

That was when Steve finally lost it. Without thinking he gave a sharp shove to Bucky’s hips and the larger man stumbled. Another shove had Bucky stepping back even farther and looking up at Steve in fear, but Steve was past caring as he pushed himself away from the tree and stepped after Bucky.

“What is with you?” he asked, his own voice rising some in pent up…everything as Bucky’s jaw set and his face tilted up as he refused to give Steve any more ground. “What is your problem? I thought you would be happy that I’m here!”

“Happy?” Bucky snorted. “You thought I would be happy? About my best friend waltzing into a war zone and nearly getting himself blown up trying to act like the complete and total moron he is? Why the fuck would I be happy about that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Steve threw his hands out to the side in a feign of disbelief. “Maybe because I’m actually here with you and can contribute to the war effort and am cured—“

“Cured?” Bucky jerked back like he’d been slapped. “This isn’t _cured_ , Stevie—this is trading in one illness for another!”

“This isn’t an illness—“

“Yes, it is!” Bucky snapped, pushing forward into Steve’s space again. “Everything might look all fine and dandy to you right now, but we have no idea what this is going to do to you in a couple of years! This is experimental, right? It’s never been done before on anybody else? How do we know it’s not going to wear off out of nowhere or have you growing third eyes or something weird like that? Is the scientist even qualified—“

Steve’s vision clouded over red, and a second later his fist was slamming into Bucky’s jaw.

“Fuck,” Bucky swore, again—quietly—as he stumbled a couple of steps back. Steve stood there staring for a moment, hands held out to the sides of hips as he tried to comprehend what he’d just done.

“Buck—“ he started to ask quietly, but before he could get anything else out, Bucky’s fist was flying towards his face and he didn’t have time to do anything more than close his eyes and take it.

Steve lost his balance and fell back towards the ground, because Bucky had more experience throwing punches than he did. One of his hands swung back to brace his weight as the other came up to grab at his jaw, but before could do much of anything, Bucky was on top of him and Steve was fighting back purely on instinct. Intellectually speaking, Steve knew that Bucky wasn’t going to hurt him—probably couldn’t, unless he pulled out a knife or shot Steve—but fighting back still felt good, and before he really knew what was happening their hands were grabbing on and pulling closer just as much as they were pushing away, and Steve was biting at Bucky’s mouth as Bucky bit at his.

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky’s voice was pained, but his hand was down Steve’s pants, familiarizing itself with Steve’s new swelling cock in haste, and it felt like the first time all over again. “What did you do?”

“What I had to,” Steve’s voice had lost it’s earlier heat, but he remained firm in that resolve as he fumbled with the buttons on Bucky’s pants and rolled the two of them until Bucky was on his back. Steve crawled over top of him without a second thought, and they both gasped as their cocks brushed together for the first time in almost a year. “Fuck, Bucky.”

Bucky released Steve’s dick in favor of fisting his hand into Steve’s jacket again, and Steve’s hips jerked of their own accord as Bucky hooked his legs up over Steve’s waist and used his new handhold to pull Steve back down so that he could lick his way into Steve’s mouth. The leaves and branches underneath of Bucky’s back rustled and snapped with every move that they made, but Steve hardly cared as he fucked himself towards his orgasm with Bucky right behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Making Up Afterwards".


	24. Making Up Afterwards (1020)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Prompt is a continuation of the last one. Originally, it was only 990 words, but it went up to 1020 when I edited it. Sorry.

Steve didn’t remember blacking out, but things were blurry as the world came back to him. His chest heaved up and down as he gasped for breaths, and he was distantly aware of the cold air and Bucky’s body underneath of his own.

Owls still hooted in the background and Steve could still smell the smoke from the burning building in the distance, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he basked in the feel of having Bucky back for the first time in months. It was only after a couple of minutes of panting into Bucky’s neck that he realized something was wrong and uncoordinatedly pushed himself up onto his haunches.

“Bucky?” he asked, quietly, only to furrow his eyebrows in confusion when Bucky didn’t respond immediately. “Hey, Buck—what’s…are you crying? Bucky, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“Sorry, Steve,” Bucky sniffed, reaching up to wipe at his cheeks—wincing as his fingers brushed along his own skin. “It’s just—my face hurts. ’M not sure what, but I think that bastard broke something.”

“What?” Steve was horrified, but it made too much sense. “Bucky, why didn’t you something before now?”

“’Didn’t think it was important,” Bucky snorted, wincing as Steve ran his fingers up over Bucky’s face, and sure enough Bucky’s nose and his ear had started bleeding again and the skin was swollen and tender underneath of Steve’s fingers. “Not compared to—well—it doesn’t matter, Steve. There’s nothing you can do about it, anyway. At least, not out here.”

“Well, yeah, but still,” Steve grumbled unintelligently as he bent down to press a kiss to Bucky’s lips—sighing at the familiar taste of him, heightened now with Steve’s knew sensory perception. “I wouldn’t have pinned you to the ground, if I’d known—and I certainly wouldn’t have punched you.”

“Oh, please,” Bucky rolled his eyes as his hands found their way down to Steve’s hips and squeezed. “That’s a lie and we both know it.”

“I missed you,” Steve brushed his fingers down along Bucky’s jaw in lieu of a retort.

“I missed you, too,” Bucky’s cold fingers slid up underneath of Steve’s jacket, and before Steve could stop himself he was leaning back down and licking his way into Bucky’s mouth—trying his best to not to hurt Bucky, but unable to control the desire burning up in his chest.

“I thought you were dead,” Steve pulled back eventually to whisper, tears slipping past his lashes as he did so. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”

“Shh,” the hand not massaging Steve’s bare back came up to cup the side of Steve’s face, and without thinking Steve nuzzled down into the calloused palm of it. “I’m right here, Stevie. I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve knew that was a lie—that Bucky couldn’t make that promise so long as he was enlisted in the army and they were in the middle of a forest in God only knew where—but there had never been a time that he hadn’t felt safe and loved in Bucky’s arms, and this was no exception, so he fisted his left hand down into Bucky’s shirt and leaned down to kiss him again.

One quick shift of his hips and a small widening of his thighs had his cock pushed back up against Bucky’s and slowly he started rocking them together again, enjoying the feel of both of their dicks swelling again as he licked his way back into Bucky’s mouth as Bucky sighed and licked back.

Another two or three minutes saw his right hand slipping down in between them and they both sighed as it wrapped around them and started jacking them in slow motions. Their first round been far too quick for Steve to notice, but everything felt so different and so much more intense in his new body, and he lost himself in the pleasure once again, except instead of fighting Bucky this time, he was kissing him.

-

“You two quite alright?” Dum-Dum asked as Steve and Bucky made their way back into camp.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded his head as he took a deep breath, pacified and relaxed by his reunion with Bucky. “I—just…we had some things we needed to talk about. That’s all. Buck and I know each other from back home, and we were just…catching up.”

The excuse sounded lame, even to Steve’s ears, but Bucky was just staring straight ahead with a glazed look on his face, and it was the best Steve could do. Dum-Dum and the rest stared at him for a moment, looking back and forth between the two of them as Bucky stopped a step behind Steve and curled as far into Steve’s side as he could without actually touching him, and the other men knew that Steve was hiding something, but—

“No harm in that,” Gabe broke the following silence, and Steve knew he was going to like him. “We were just staring to get a little worried—next time tell us where you’re going, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Steve ducked his head as he nodded. “Everything go okay while I was gone?”

“Yep,” Dum-Dum nodded his head as he looked around the camp. “But we should probably be going soon. I doubt we took out all of the HYDRA guys, and I don’t fancy the thought of running into them again.”

“Neither do I,” Steve agreed, taking a look around himself. Everything looked more or less the same, and the fire at the compound persisted in the background, but HYDRA was going to regroup eventually, and Steve knew he would feel much better if they were back on a secured US Base when HYDRA did. “Can you do me a favor and round everybody up?”

“Sure thing,” Dum-Dum nodded, reaching forward to start stamping out the very small fire as he did so. “You sure your friend there is going to be okay?”

“I—yeah,” Steve nodded his head, looking over at Bucky as he reached down to squeeze the brunet’s hand. “He’s going to be fine. He just needs a little bit of time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Gazing into Each Other's Eyes".


	25. Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes (1405)

Bucky’s chest was still heaving as Steve lay snoring beside him. The second that they were done, Steve had quite literally passed out on top of Bucky, and Bucky had ended up having to use his bionic arm in order to roll the blond off of his body, but Bucky hardly cared. They’d stumbled into bed together after the stupid dinner party Tony had asked them to go to, and Bucky could still feel Steve inside of him—grinding and fucking and sliding against his insides as he sucked mark after mark onto Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s legs still burned with the stretch of having his thighs wrapped up around Steve’s waist, and every time he blinked he was greeted with the sight of Steve’s possessive eyes—the image seared into his corneas from where he’d been unable to look away as his back arched of it’s own accord in pleasure.

Bucky moaned at just the memory of what they’d done, and his dick gave a pitiful twitch as his body tried to stir it back to life. Thankfully, he was far too spent for such a thing, but it was also kind of a shame, too. Fucking Steve was by far one of his favorite pass times (or letting Steve fuck him instead), and it would have been nice to repay the sore ass before the pain really set in. Sure, he didn’t have to worry about Steve doing any permanent damage due to the serum, but unlike Steve, it would take him more than a couple of hours to heal. It would be a couple of days before Bucky felt up to do something so rigorous again with how carnal Steve had been, and that included doing things like returning the favor.

Chances were Bucky would actually wait a while—wait until Steve had forgotten about it, and then used Steve’s surprise to his advantage—but that was more thinking than Bucky was interested in doing for the moment, so instead he just blinked his eyes again and set about committing the look of pure lust and devotion on Steve’s face to his memory.

As soon as his gasping pants slowed down to recovery breaths, Bucky untangled himself from Steve’s legs and pushed himself up off of the bed. Standing brought about a shot of pain and an odd sense of imbalance, but Bucky adjusted to both after a couple of seconds and made his way over to their en suite bathroom. Taking a shower with Steve still passed out sweaty and covered in semen would be pointless, but Bucky did turn the sink water on to heat up as he waddled over to the linen closet and grabbed himself a couple of washcloths and a small towel.

Every step shot another stab of pain up through his body, but they dulled the more that Bucky walked, so he figured that was probably a good sign. The towels were set down onto the vanity groggily, and Bucky immediately reached up to start gathering his hair in his hands once they were free. Hair bands littered their apartment, but Bucky had gotten into the habit of keeping one around his wrist, and that was the one he used to secure his pony tail after he’d gotten most of it back out of his face and up off of his neck.

The water was still cool when Bucky reached down to splash some of it over his face—too cool on Bucky’s heated skin—but it also felt kind of good, and Bucky quickly grabbed at the towel underneath of the washcloths to dab himself dry. By the time he was done with that, the water had warmed itself into something that was a little more comfortable, and Bucky wasted no time wetting one of the wash clothes underneath of it. Once again, the water felt good against his skin as he wiped at his shoulders and stomach, and he gave a small sigh as his drying come dissolved away.

The running water helped to calm Bucky as he rinsed the first washcloth clean and reached for the second, but he turned it off as he grabbed the hand held mirror off of the counter and squatted down to the ground.

Cleaning himself up after a tryst with Steve was hardly glamorous, but he needed to know how bad the damage was (if there was any at all—usually, there wasn’t, but Steve had been rough), and lo’ and behold, Bucky wasn’t surprised to see a brownish red mixed in with Steve’s semen and their lube as he started wiping all of the mess away. Every touch of the washcloth against his skin had his thighs quivering and his teeth digging into his bottom lip, but he couldn’t see any kind of an external tear, so that was good. Bucky’s internal injuries typically healed faster than his external ones due to the way that his serum worked, and there really wasn’t as much blood as it looked like streaked out over the washcloth. Bucky took another moment just to look, to make sure that he hadn’t missed anything, before he pushed himself back up to his shaking feet and rinsed the washcloth out in the sink so he could drape it over to side with the other one. The third washcloth was used to clean the mess from his sensitive dick and balls, but instead of ringing that one out to dry, he just rinsed it off in the sink and let it sit on the counter as he took another moment to dry himself off and brush his teeth.

He grabbed both the washcloth and the towel and headed back towards the bedroom after he was done. Steve would give Bucky hell the next morning for just letting him sleep after something like that, but Bucky hardly cared as he used his flesh arm to coax Steve over onto his back. There were water bottles within reach on the nightstand, so Bucky didn’t bother waking him up to try to get him to drink something, but he did take another minute to grab one and down half of it himself before he went back to gingerly wiping the sweat from Steve’s face and shoulders and cleaning up the smeared come across Steve’s stomach and chest.

Steve didn’t even twitch as Bucky worked, and Bucky spared a soft snort as he pushed himself up off the bed again and made his way back into the bathroom with both the soiled washcloth and the damp towel. He lingered just long enough to throw the washcloth in the sink and the towel on the counter before he turned the light back off and headed back out towards the bed. Bucky would be annoyed with himself in the morning for not cleaning up the washcloths and the towels and throwing them in the hamper, but that was Tomorrow Bucky’s problem, and all Now Bucky wanted to do was curl back up in bed with Steve and go to sleep. Steve did stir a little as Bucky slipped underneath of the covers and settled up against his side, but all he did was grumble before he looped an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and pulled him impossibly tight up against his chest.

Bucky struggled for a second, Steve’s grip too tight in his sleep, but eventually Steve relaxed just enough that Bucky could breath again, and Bucky settled down with his back pressed up against Steve’s chest and only the blankets between them. Being pressed up against Steve’s bare skin would have been his preference, but Bucky was starting to get cold, and Bucky didn’t like to be cold. Steve, for his part in all of it, seemed to be perfectly content with the new arrangement they’d worked out, and wasted no time letting out a loud snore into Bucky’s ear, as Bucky rolled his eyes with a deep sigh.

Bucky shifted around just a little bit more, getting himself comfortable with the blankets nestled around him and Steve’s mouth not so close to his ear, before he finally relaxed down into the mattress. Moments later, his eyes were closing of their own accord as he let the sleepiness nagging at the back of his mind take control of his body, and if his dreams were tinged the same blue as Steve’s eyes that evening, he hardly cared the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Getting Married".


	26. Getting Married (614)

Bucky giggled as he fell onto the bed—bouncing a little with the springiness of the mattress—but his eyes never once left the paper in his hands.

“Can you believe it, Stevie?” he asked for what had to have been the fifteenth time in only twice as many minutes, and Steve gave a fond roll of his eyes from behind Bucky as he lifted his foot up to remove the shoe that adorned it.   “Can you actually _believe_ it? We’re married, now.”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve humored him with an answer, smiling in spite of himself as he fumbled with the laces of one of his shoes while he simultaneously tried to jump his way out of the other because he really did understand Bucky’s excitement. “I was there—had to sign the papers just the same as you.”

“Well, yeah, I know,” Steve could hear the way that Bucky rolled his eyes in his voice as he rolled the top half of his body around to look back at Steve over the swell of his butt (which wasn’t a bad view, and if Steve wasn’t busy trying to not kill himself with his socks on the slick wood floors he would have taken the time to appreciate it). “But still…it’s exciting! After all of these years, we’re finally married! Nobody can pull us apart now! Nobody can tell us we can’t be together!”

“I know,” Steve agreed, standing back up straight as his last shoe fell to the floor. Without hesitating, he strode forward into the room and hoisted himself up onto the bed with a grunt. Bucky had already turned back to the paper in his hands, so Steve knew that he didn’t see him, but that didn’t stop Steve from crawling up over top of the brunet or pressing his lips to the back of the man’s neck as he settled himself over Bucky’s back. “That’s why we went and did it.”

The ceremony had been a quiet affair—no more than a signing of papers down at the courthouse—but it was more than either of them had ever hoped for, and that was enough.

“I know,” Bucky hummed Steve’s own words back to him. Without either one of them speaking, Steve pressed his lips back to Bucky’s neck, and Bucky tilted his head so that Steve had better access to more of his skin. “But…still. I’m happy, Stevie.”

“So am I,” Steve trailed his kisses up to Bucky’s lips, until suddenly he was licking his way into Bucky’s mouth. “I’ve loved you for so long, Buck.”

“Me too, Stevie,” Bucky just couldn’t seem to stop saying Steve’s name, Steve smiled every time he heard it. “Me too…”

The two laid kissing for a moment or so, not even pulling away to breathe until Steve couldn’t stop his hand of slipping down in between Bucky’s body and the comforter.

“Mmph,” he half-choked as his fingers found what could have only been just how happy Bucky was over the entire thing, and Bucky purred as he ground down into Steve’s palm—kindling Steve’s arousal in between Bucky’s ass cheeks just as much as he stimulated his own.

“Slow down there, Quick Draw,” Steve grunted, but it only seemed to spur Bucky on—the next thrust of Bucky’s member longer and harder against his palm than the two or three he’d managed as Steve centered himself. “You sure about this?”

“Yes,” Bucky punctuated his assent with two or three quick thrusts of his hips, and Steve’s eyes fluttered closed as he grunted. “Please.”

“Alright, Buck,” Steve found himself nodding and rocking down into Bucky’s perfect ass before he could stop himself. “Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "On One of Their Birthdays".


	27. On One of Their Birthdays (2550)

It had started as a joke. Steve hadn’t meant anything by it—he and Bucky had just been hanging out at the local animal shelter, playing with some of the cats back after Bucky had first come home, and the jest had been off of his lips before he could stop it. Bucky had gone deathly quiet afterwards, the only sounds in the room were the ‘rowls’ and cheeps of the playing kittens on the floor around them, and Steve had feared that he’d said or done something wrong—that he’d hit on a hidden nerve that Bucky hadn’t had the chance to tell him about yet—but then he was peeking up through his eyelashes at Bucky and Bucky was looking up at him contemplatively.

_“That…that might actually work,”_ were the words he mumbled a couple of minutes later, his head ticked to the side as he mauled the idea over. _“You…you don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but…it might help.”_

_“Well, mostly, I was joking, Buck,”_ Steve gave a weak little chuckle, but his cheeks burned under Bucky’s stare, and he knew that the decision had already been made, regardless of whatever he or Bucky said. _“But, if you don’t think it would trigger you…I would definitely be willing to try it.”_

The thought made Bucky self-conscious, Steve could tell by the way he bit his lip and seemed to fall in on himself as they continued talking about it, but the five-dollar cat collars had been purchased on their way out of the animal shelter for the evening—a plain blue one for Steve and a leather corded one for Bucky—and Steve had strapped his around his left wrist when he’d gotten out of the shower the next morning, and the difference had been evident almost immediately.

One of the hardest things for Bucky adjusting back to ‘civilian’ life had been his tendency to get lost in his own mind and not realize what was going on around him, so more often than not, he would completely miss Steve coming into a room, and then react negatively when Steve said something to pull him out of his thoughts. Steve hadn’t minded the negative reactions, really he hadn’t, but the small little cat bell had been just enough noise to announce Steve’s arrival into a room, without being invasive or reminiscent of indiscretions in the past, and things had felt much more comfortable for both of the two of them after that.

Obviously, it had taken both Steve and Bucky some time to adjust. Steve forgot to put his on, and Bucky was frustrated by the fact that he couldn’t move without his dinging (because he absolutely refused to let Steve wear one without doing the same thing himself), but they’d both kept up the effort to get past their own dislikes of the system, and pretty soon neither one of them could be found without their ‘bracelets’ on. Somewhere along the lines, the little bands evolved into more than just ‘that thing that discouraged Bucky from shooting me’ or ‘yet another reminder of my past’, and sure they got their fair share of crap from the rest of the Avengers, but Steve hardly cared.

Tony, strangely enough, had seemed to be the only one of them who understood (other than Clint), and had helped Bucky make a little ‘coat hook’ plaque-thing for them to retire their old ones up on when they broke, and Steve had hung it up on their bedroom wall the very same Christmas day that Bucky had given it to him, in spite of Bucky’s reddened cheeks. Five and a half years had taken them through more collars than Steve would care to admit—everything from holiday themed ones to ones that matched to whatever they could find after one of them had broken at the last minute—but at least a small piece of every single one of them was on display on that board, and Steve and Bucky had run out of hooks five or six collars ago.

That was part of what had led Steve to the decision to take the whole thing a step farther, and the rest of it was just…

_“Hey, Bucky?”_ he stepped out onto the balcony, pulling the glass door back shut behind himself as he did so.

_“I’m here,”_ Bucky called, turning around to face Steve from where he’d been looking down at the street below. While it was true that Bucky was doing so much better than he had, big events still worked on his nerves and none of their friends held it against him when he had to step away to collect himself for a minute. More often than not he would steal a cigarette—a horrible habit that couldn’t really hurt him anymore—and Steve wasn’t surprised to see him drop a butt to the floor and press it out with the heel of his shoe as he took a drink of the water in his hand and Steve crossed the distance to him. _“What’s up?”_

_“Not much,”_ Steve shrugged, playing off his sudden nerves as weariness of the party that soldiered on behind him, semi-in his honor as he bent down to lay a soft kiss to Bucky’s lips as Bucky slid a hand up around his waist. _“Just wanted to come make sure you were okay and steal a minute away from all of the hubbub for myself, while I was at it.”_

_“Ah, well in that case—my balcony is your balcony,”_ Bucky offered, rubbing his thumb comfortingly over Steve’s light blue t-shirt as he did so. _“And to answer your question, I’m fine. I just wanted to step outside and get some fresh air and some quiet before the fire works started…you know how hard those can be for me sometimes…”_

_“Yeah,”_ Steve sighed _. “Yeah, I do.”_

Steve knew how hard they were for Bucky because they were hard for him, too.

Once again, things were quiet between the two of them for a moment, but the silence was companionable, even if it hadn’t been an entirely pleasant one as Steve looked down over the balcony at the cars and people below and Bucky rested his head against Steve’s shoulder until he finally pushed back up and away.

_“So, what’s in the bag?”_ he asked as he turned towards Steve again.

_“Bag?”_ Steve furrowed his eyebrows. _“What bag?”_

_“The one in your hand,”_ Bucky rolled his eyes, and—

_“Oh, that,”_ Steve felt the tips of his ears burn as he shuffled his feet and played with the plastic handles of the gift bag that Bucky had referenced. _“Right, um, it’s a gift.”_

_“A gift?”_ Bucky questioned, taking another sip of his water.

_“A gift,”_ Steve nodded his head once in confirmation.

_“Who’s it from?”_ Bucky prompted, clearly intrigued.

Steve took a deep breath, second-guessing his decision for a minute, before finally, _“Me.”_

_“You?”_ Bucky’s eyebrows shot up even farther, obviously he was confused, but it was kind of cute, too.

_“Me,”_ Steve nodded his head again, smiling as he did so. _“Would you mind coming and sitting down with me for a minute?”_

_“…Sure,”_ it took Bucky a second or two but eventually he agreed, and the two made their way over to the patio furniture a little bit closer to the door. Bucky set himself down in one of the single chairs, and Steve set himself down on the table across from him—leaning forward to set the bag down gently on Bucky’s knees.

_“I want you to open this,”_ he said, struggling to hold down the odd mix of nerves and impending amusement at how he knew Bucky was going to react.

_“Steven Grant Rogers, I swear to God if you spent another cent of money on me—“_

_“Trust me, Bucky,”_ Steve cut him off with chuckle, shaking the bag a little bit against Bucky’s leg. _“It’s alright. Just open up what’s inside and you’ll understand.”_

Once again Bucky hesitated, but eventually he relented with a nod of his head, _“Alright—“_

He took the bag from Steve and sat a little further back in his seat as he set his glass of water aside.

_“But…if this is too much, we’re taking it back!”_

_“Deal!”_ Steve agreed, but he doubted it would come to that, and tried to hide his smile as he watched Bucky hesitantly push the plain cream tissue paper back and pull out the black leather box inside.

_“Steve,”_ the price of the box was obvious—the sheer size and attention to detail (not to mention the embossed golden label that Steve wouldn’t have recognized, let alone Bucky)—and Bucky gasped as he took it in underneath of the torch and the distant city lights.

_“Trust me, baby doll,”_ Steve repeated himself, reaching out to clasp Bucky’s knee with one hand as he grabbed the bag and set it on the ground in between the two of them with the other. Typically, ‘baby doll’ was Bucky’s nickname for Steve, but Steve wasn’t above using it when he needed to get through to Bucky, and the Captain felt like the situation warranted it. _“It’s not as bad as it seems—“_

That was partially a lie, because it had been expensive, but Steve also knew it wasn’t as bad as Bucky was afraid of (and that it had been more than worth it).

_“—Just open it up and see what’s inside, and you can decide then,”_ Steve finished his plea, squeezing Bucky’s thigh as the love of his life looked up at him. _“Like we decided.”_

_“Alright,”_ Bucky heaved a sigh, and Steve was half-tempted to laugh, but knew it would distract Bucky again, so he stifled it down and settled for letting the corners of his mouth pull up into a smile. Bucky looked back down at the box in his hands, his flesh thumb rubbing over the bottom corner as the metal one held it up, but he still wasn’t opening it up, and Steve was amused to see his cheeks tinge pink as he looked back up at Steve. _“It’s not some kind of really fancy dildo or expensive lube, is it?”_

_“No!”_ Steve barked a laugh, thankful for the smile on Bucky’s face as the unexpected (but very relevant) question broke the tension between the two of them. _“No, it’s not anything like that! Just…just open it, and you’ll see…”_

Steve trailed off again, but Bucky was already looking back down at the box in his hands, and Steve settled back down himself as he watched Bucky take a deep breath and let it out through his nose before he popped it open between the two of them.

Once again, Bucky was deathly quiet, but his eyes sparkled as he regarded the contents of the box, and after a moment or two he found his voice again, _“Stevie!”_

_“Do you like them?”_ Steve couldn’t help but ask _._

_“Do I like them?”_ Bucky’s eyes snapped back up to Steve’s immediately. _“Of course, I do! How could you even ask me that—“_

_“Shh,”_ Steve cut him off once again, leaning forward until he was pushing into Bucky’s personal space and caressing the side of his face _. “I didn’t mean anything by it—I’m just asking.”_

Bucky continued to stare at Steve, his blue eyes searching Steve’s for a moment before he melted back down into his seat again.

_“Sorry,”_ he apologized, his eyes flicking away from Steve’s the way that they always did when he apologized, but instead of being bothered by the reaction like he usually was, Steve was just endeared as Bucky’s gaze settled on the box still in his hands. _“But to answer your question…yes, Stevie. I love them.”_

Steve had gone out and gotten them new collars for their collection, but instead of going to the local pet store and getting them cloth or leather ones, he’d gone to a jeweler and commissioned two ‘chain’ like platinum bracelets with bells and tiny little tags that dangled off of the larger loops that acted as the open end of the toggle clasps. Bucky’s had filigree-like designs up and down chain links, while Steve’s was sleeker and smoother, except for the engraving on the tag—which matched Bucky’s perfect script.

_“Good,”_ Steve found himself declaring quietly as he leaned forward to press a kiss to Bucky’s lips—Bucky humming softly as their moist lips and tongues slid against each other slowly and in a way that only lips whom had known each others for years could. _“Would you like to put them on?”_

_“Yes, please,”_ Bucky nodded his head, his eyes still closed as Steve pressed another kiss to his glistening lips.

_“Okay,”_ Steve agreed, and a second later he was slipping the box out of Bucky’s hand and pulling Bucky’s bracelet out from inside. Without hesitation, Bucky reached down an unclasped his old one, and a couple of minutes later they were back to kissing each other—flat out making out as Bucky shifted and pulled Steve into the seat beside him. Steve was just getting into it—enjoying the soft chorus of music that accompanied them as their bells sparked and chimed on their wrists as they moved—when the French doors opened in front of them again, and the two quickly pulled apart as people flooded out onto the balcony.

_“There they are!”_ Clint crowed happily, and Steve hastened to wipe the remaining saliva off of his face as the group came closer—some heading for the edge of the balcony as others headed straight over to himself and Bucky. A quick look to the side confirmed that Bucky was doing the same—only he had the bag and box in his lap to distract himself, and Steve didn’t.

_“Yeah, there they are!”_ Sam echoed, and any semblance of the romantic moment Steve and Bucky were sharing was gone, but that was okay, because pretty soon the fireworks had started in the distance and everybody had gone to watch, and Steve had managed to pull Bucky back into his arms—his back pressed completely against Steve’s front—and Steve used the excuse to bury his still aching erection up into the swell of Bucky’s ass, and Bucky hardly seemed to mind. In fact, Bucky had seemed quite happy as Steve rocked them back and forth from side to side, and for the first time in a long time, the loud bangs of the fireworks didn’t bother him as he buried his face down into Bucky’s hair.

Bucky’s flesh fingers had found the bracelet around Steve’s waist nearly the second that Steve had wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist, and they hadn’t left it since—fingertips running over the cool metal in soothing strokes as he turned his head and pressed his lips to the crown of Steve’s head.

_“I love you,”_ the fireworks and awed gasps of the crowd around them were far too loud for Steve to actually hear the words, but Steve would have sworn that Bucky said them regardless, and he was perfectly happy to admit that the sentiment was more than returned as he squeezed Bucky’s waist just a little bit tighter.

_“Love you, too, Buck.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Doing Something Ridiculous".


	28. Doing Something Ridiculous (678)

“James Buchanan Barnes, this is ridiculous,” Steve gave a huffing sigh.

“Don’t care,” Bucky pulled back far enough to speak before he sank his teeth back down into Steve’s skin. Natasha or somebody had made some kind of a dumb remark along the way about never having seen a hickey on Steve’s skin, and so there they were, locked away in a coat closet for goodness’ sake as Bucky bit and sucked a bruise into Steve’s shoulder.

Why Bucky had let himself fall victim to Nat’s goading was beyond Steve, but Bucky had seemed to take the statement as some kind of a personal affront to his manhood and was sparing no effort as he set about breaking Steve’s capillaries with his lips and teeth (and quite possibly a vein or two). Thankfully, the serum saved Steve from most of the pain and even with all of Bucky’s work the mark would be gone by the time he woke the next morning, but it was the some of the worst damage Bucky had ever wrought on his body on purpose.

Steve didn’t mind—in fact it was blatantly obvious how much he was enjoying it, if the way his swollen cock rutted itself up against Bucky’s thigh through their pants legs was any indication—but he wasn’t exactly looking forward to having to go back out in front of everybody else in his semi-aroused and used state, either. Nat and Sam’s teasing aside, Stark would probably see the extent of the bruising and want to run tests or experiments or some other science-y shit like that because it was rare that they found anything that could actually hurt Steve, and Steve had no interest in playing the human test subject for the rest of the day.

“You’re mine,” Bucky bit back down into the top of Steve’s pectoral as he noticed Steve’s mind drifting, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Buck,” he patted Bucky’s hip as Bucky growled at his slightly condescending tone. “Everybody knows that.”

“Apparently, _you_ don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” Steve remained patient, his head tipping back against the wall as Bucky abused a particularly sensitive spot. “I would just rather be down stairs with my dick up your ass while you do this instead of up here in some damn closet with the rest of the Tower waiting on the other side to see what we do.”

“But that’s part of the fun,” Bucky finally let Steve’s skin go, and pushed up on his toes to kiss Steve’s lips as he cupped Steve’s jaw in his hand. “It’s…no…fun…if…it’s…just…me…that…knows.”

Bucky continued to lick at Steve’s mouth and bite at his lips in between his words, and Steve gave up arguing in favor of kissing Bucky back as he reached up to thread his fingers through Bucky’s hair. Steve hadn’t been expecting to like the long hair the first time he’d seen it, but he _really_ did, and Bucky liked when he played with it, too. The two stood there like that, making out like two teenagers at a party, and Steve thought about just throwing his morals out of the metaphorical window for a moment—flipping their positions and taking Bucky right up against the wall he was leaning against (or spreading his legs and letting Bucky fuck him instead, if he was so intent on being such a possessive bastard)—but then Bucky was pulling away with a chuckle and slipping out the door, and Steve was letting out a frustrated groan.

No matter what he did, Bucky was going to make this hard on him, and like an idiot he took just enough time to will the worst of his erection away before he pushed himself up off of the wall and followed after his partner. Weathering the rest’s stupid comments would be well worth whatever reward Bucky was going to be giving him after they were alone again later on that evening, and Steve would be damned if he was going to pass that up over something as frivolous as his own ego.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Prompt is "Doing Something Sweet".


	29. Doing Something Sweet (4009)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, “mow” is pronounced as though to rhyme with “prow” or “cow”, not “low” or “pro”.  
> Originally, this prompt was 3000-some words, but it broke the 4000 mark upon editing. Sorry.

“Hey, handsome,” Bucky grinned as Steve grunted, plastering the length his body up against Steve’s side as excited little toenails clicked on the vinyl flooring behind him.  “You miss me?”

“You know I did, Buck,” was the smiling response Steve gave back over his shoulder, and Bucky giggled a little bit as he bent down to press a kiss to the closest corner of Steve’s mouth.  “Did you get the laundry in?”

“Yep,” Bucky nodded his head, burrowing himself down deeper in between Steve and the back of the couch without unhooking his leg from over top of Steve’s.

The two had been having a quiet night in at their apartment—a decently sized two-bedroom, two-bath in the suburbs of New York City—their dirty plates from dinner and a couple of mugs of tea still sitting on the coffee table in front of Steve, but the dryer back in their bedroom had beeped, so Bucky had gotten up to go take care of it while Steve stayed behind to keep the couch and the blankets warm.  A look at the TV told Bucky and that Steve had rented _Stand By Me_ through their On Demand feature while Bucky was gone, and Bucky didn’t mind that Steve had started it without him.  “Let Shadow out while I was at it, too.”

Over the years Steve and Bucky had acquired two dogs and two cats, and while Monty (the golden retriever) and Bosco and Fabs (the short-haired tuxedo and the medium-haired tabby) were relatively normal, Shadow had been a hot mess from the start, and only a small portion of that was because he was missing his front left paw.

All four of their pets had come from rescue programs or animal shelters. Monty had been abandoned by his old owners when they foreclosed on their house and moved, Bosco had been donated to the pound after his previous owner passed away, and Fabs had been found out on the streets with half of her fur missing, but Shadow had been physically removed from his previous owners by the police and animal control as a four-to-six month old puppy. Nobody was really sure what breed he was or what had happened to him before the police had found him, but he’d spent all of his early life chained to a coffee table, and his shin had been mangled beyond repair from the shackle.

A generous benefactor had been willing to pay for the vet bills to remove it and to nurse Shadow back to health, but they hadn’t been in a position to adopt him, and that was where Steve and Bucky had come in. Bucky had stopped by the vet’s office one day to pick up food for the cats when one of the technicians at the front desk had struck up a conversation with him, and the next thing that Bucky had known, Bucky had been agreeing to foster the poor little thing until he was healed enough to be put up for adoption. The first couple of months had been rough, Shadow had skirted around on their slick floors, falling on his face, and was absolutely terrified of everything, but eventually Bucky and Steve had been able to get through to him and by the time his rehab was over and the top of his head was brushing at Bucky’s knees, neither Bucky nor Steve had the heart to give the little mutt up. The adoption had been a fairly quick thing after that (Bucky had a sinking suspicion that the lady in charge of Shadow’s case knew it was coming), and they’d all been stuck together ever since.

Shadow wasn’t his actual name—that would have been Dodger—but he followed Bucky around so much that Steve had just started referring to him as Bucky’s shadow one day and the nickname had stuck. As long as Bucky was in the apartment, Shadow was somewhere in his sight, and on the rare occasions Bucky was gone, he holed himself away in his crate or hid behind Monty until Bucky came back, so either way the moniker worked.

True to form, Shadow had jumped off of the couch and followed after Bucky when Bucky had left to go deal with the laundry, and Bucky had taken the opportunity to let him out onto the balcony to due his business in the small dirt and rock flower bed Bucky and Steve had built before they’d both come back to the living room. Shadow waited behind the couch for a couple of seconds to make sure that Bucky wasn’t going anywhere else before he jumped back up on the loveseat to curl up with Monty and the cats.

“So, we’re watching _Stand By Me_?” Bucky turned his attention back to Steve as Monty licked Dodger’s face lazily in greeting and Dodger wagged his tail happily.

“Yep,” Steve confirmed, peeking back over his shoulder at Bucky again. “If that’s okay with you…?”

“Of course it is,” Bucky leaned down to nuzzle behind Steve’s ear, and breathed in the scent of Steve as he ran the length of his metal hand down the side of Steve’s ribcage. Bucky was in a sweatshirt and pair of plaid pajama pants to combat the chilling weather, but Steve had gone with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, preferring to tangle various parts of himself up in a blanket to stave off the cold. Steve’s hair was as short and well kept as ever in spite of their busy schedules, and Bucky’s was pulled back into a messy ponytail thing at the back of his head and every once in a while his bangs tickled against his own cheeks as he moved. “You want some thing more to eat or drink?”

“No, I’m good,” Steve shook his head, shifting a bit under Bucky’s weight. “I just want to lay here and watch this with you.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky’s lips brushed against side Steve’s neck as he spoke, and he couldn’t resist pressing a couple of kisses to the skin there as he felt Steve choke back a sigh and wiggle in response.

“Yep,” Steve nodded his head contentedly. His face was directed forward towards the TV, but his body was relaxed, and his eyes were unfocused, and Bucky grinned as he let his teeth close over Steve’s earlobe and lengthened the strokes of his hand to include more of Steve’s t-shirt-covered skin. “’M happy right here—no need for anybody to go anywhere or get anything. This is perfectly fine…”

Steve’s voice was distracted at best as his eyes fluttered closed and his legs fell ever so unnoticeably apart, and Bucky let him stay like that for a moment—just another moment—before he kissed his way back down Steve’s neck and unceremoniously reached down to run the palm of his hand over Steve’s swelling cock as Steve yelped in surprise.

“B-Bucky!”

“Shh,” Bucky chuckled, feeling and stroking over Steve’s groin as he nuzzled his nose and lips back into Steve’s hair. “I want to.”

“Y-you do?” Steve’s voice sounded small, unbelieving, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Of course I do, you dunce,” he gave Steve’s dick a particularly hard tug, causing the bigger man to cant his hips forward into Bucky’s grip and moan from the added stimulation. “Do _you_ not want me to?”

“No—fuck, no, Bucky,” Steve shook his head, pushing his hips back into Bucky’s as he did so. “You know, I do—it’s just…I don’t want you to feel like you _have to_ or something.”

“I don’t,” Bucky’s slight annoyance at Steve’s…Steve-ness melted into nothing more than love as he pushed himself even tighter up against Steve’s side and slipped his hand down in between Steve’s sweatpants and his boxers, so there was only one layer of fabric between his hand and Steve’s cock. “You know, I don’t baby doll. I just want to make you feel good—we don’t get to do this nearly enough anymore.”

“We don’t,” Steve agreed, his head turning ever so slightly towards Bucky’s, and Bucky was glad to feel the slight slide of Steve’s groin against his fingers as Steve’s hips started moving in time with Bucky’s ministrations. “I’ve missed this, Bucky.”

Sure, they still had sex and slept with each other more than most couples would, but things had calmed between the two of them some over the years, and life had just gotten in the way of their every night, fuck-each-other’s-brains-out routine.

“Me, too,” Bucky shifted his face down into the back of Steve’s shoulder as he started moving his hand a little faster. Steve wasn’t coming any time soon, they still had a while before that was going to happen, but that didn’t mean that Steve and Bucky couldn’t enjoy just laying together until then. “Maybe you and I should go away for a couple of days—plan a small vacation to ourselves where we can just get away.”

“Where would you want to go?” Steve asked, the movie completely forgotten as his hand came down to brush against the metal of Bucky’s forearm comfortingly, even though Bucky couldn’t really feel more than the pressure of the gesture. “We wouldn’t be able to go very far.”

“I know,” Bucky hummed, taking a moment to think before he actually answered Steve’s question. “But…the beach sounds nice—somewhere warm to relax for a couple of days.”

“Mm, we could head down to Florida,” Steve suggested, his voice betraying how much the idea appealed to him. “A cheap hotel shouldn’t be too hard to find this time of year, and it’s close enough we can be home in a couple of hours if something happened.”

“That’s true,” Bucky agreed, tilting his head a bit so he could look down at the side of Steve’s face. “And if we do that, we could swing by Disney World for a day…check out all of the rides and—“

Bucky was cut off by the front door banging open.

“Mom, Dad—I’m home!” a voice echoed through the apartment, followed by two pairs of feet and bags dropping to the floor, and Bucky’s hand was out of Steve’s pants before Shadow shot his way off of the loveseat.

Steve gave a quite whine of protest in response at being interrupted, but Shadow’s scrabbling toenails and excited barks obscured it well as Bucky leaned down to press a kiss to Steve’s cheek and rearranged Steve’s pants.

“Sorry, babe,” he apologized quickly, tipping forward ever so slightly to reach Steve’s lips, before he pushed himself out from in between Steve and the couch and rolled his way onto his feet as Steve banged the side of his head against the arm of the couch. Bucky followed Bosco and Dodger towards the door (the long-suffering stares of Monty and Fabs pulling his shoulders back as he went), and somewhere around the entrance to the kitchen he met a blond haired boy with long limbs and bright blue eyes.

“Hey, Momma,” Bucky wrapped his left arm around the boy’s flannel-clad waist and smiled as he pressed a kiss to Bucky’s cheek, Shadow yipping and tumbling excitedly around at their feet.

“James,” Bucky held his son close for a second, making sure that he was okay, before Bucky let James go again, and turned to the boy behind him. “Francis.”

“Hey, Ma,” Francis grinned, leaning forward to press a much shorter kiss to Bucky’s cheek before he pulled away again. The two boys had been out at the library for the evening studying for some big essay they had to write for school, and Bucky hadn’t realized how late it was when he’d come back from working with the laundry. James was in the process of hanging their coats up on their respective hooks, but their socks and shoes were already on the floor with their gym bags, and Bucky snorted when he noticed James’ beanie still on top of his head. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Bucky smiled, pretending as though nothing had just been happening between himself and Steve. While it was true that neither of the two boys were his biological children, and the ‘mom’-thing was just a joke, Bucky had been in their lives (and vice-versa) for longer than he cared to think about, and he might as well have been a parent to them.

Back before Steve and Bucky had been reunited again and Steve still thought that Bucky was dead, Steve and Natasha had participated in an Asgardian-drunken one-night stand. Both of the two of them had regretted the affair as soon as they’d sobered, and quickly agreed to laugh and forget that it had ever happened, but fate had apparently had other plans, though, and eight and a half months later, James had entered the world—kicking and screaming and demanding the world on a rattle shaped platter. Steve and Natasha had tried to make it work, even though they’d never re-entered into a relationship, but the domestic life just hadn’t suited Natasha.

Steve, being the wonderful soul that he was, had absolved her of her responsibility about six months into the agreement, and had undertaken single parent hood for a couple of months after that while Natasha returned to her duties as the Black Widow. Bucky had been liberated from Hydra’s control somewhere around the ninth month and Steve had yet again added another ward to the ever growing list of things he had to take care of as he continued to try to juggle the Captain America mantle as well. Three months later, James’ babysitter had moved away, and Bucky had shown up for an ‘outing’ only to find Steve having a small panic attack while James screamed in his playpen.

Officially speaking, Steve hadn’t told Bucky about the little boy yet for safety reasons, but Bucky had already suspected. The two had yet to reengage in the sexual side of their relationship, but Bucky knew Steve better than the backs of his own hands, and he’d known there was a reason behind Steve putting Bucky up at the Tower instead of bringing him back to Steve’s apartment. There had been other signs, too—Steve hiding his phone from Bucky in spite of him continuing to flirt and the two of them mutually deciding to continue their relationship once Bucky had adjusted back to everyday life a little bit better; the grocery or convenience store stops where Steve wouldn’t tell Bucky what he was buying on the way back to his apartment after their days spent together; the distinct smell of baby that clung to Steve in spite of his best efforts to cover it up when ever he would go out with Bucky—but, Bucky understood Steve’s hesitancy, and tried his best not to take it personally. At the time, he’d kind of been a hot mess, and probably would have done the same thing if the roles had been reversed.

Steve had been hesitant about Bucky picking James up at first that first afternoon, but Bucky had done it anyway in an act that he still didn’t entirely understand nearly seventeen years later, and James had quickly settled down, fascinated by Bucky’s long hair as he sucked on Bucky’s fingers. Bucky wasn’t sure how long it was after that day that Steve had moved back in to the Tower for a year or so, but eventually he had, and they’d been raising James together in between running missions ever since.

Francis, for his part in their little family, was the son of Clint Barton, and not only was he less than three months older than James; Clint had been widowed when Francis and James were three or four. Understandably, Clint had taken it hard and struggled with the burden of his pain and the tussles of single parenthood, and Bucky and Steve had stepped in and tried to help him out as much as they could.

Frequent “play-dates” had turned two kids who were tolerant of each other into best friends, and time and maturity had turned best friends into burgeoning soul mates. Francis had struggled some when he’d learned of Clint’s tempestuous, on-again/off-again relationship with Natasha—especially when he’d done the math and realized that Clint and Natasha had been involved while Francis’ mother was still alive—but an intervention on Steve and Clint’s part had quickly calmed things down and James and Francis had worked it out.

Clint still operated as a full-time agent for the Avengers, and had taken on a protégée before Francis had become old enough to train, so Francis had continued to spend a lot of time with the Rogers-Barnes clan as the two got older, and Bucky hardly minded having him around.

“Did you guys get home okay?”

“Yep!” Francis grinned as he leaned down to pick up Shadow—taking the dog’s weight easily as he turned Shadow stomach-side up and cradled him to his chest like a baby. “Isn’t that right, Dodger? Roger-Dodger!”

Both James and Bucky watched the two for a moment—Francis baby talking and wrinkling his nose while Shadow wagged his tail and licked happily at Francis’ face—before James turned his attention back to Bucky.

“Where’s Dad?” he asked.

“On the couch,” Bucky answered, hiding his amusement when he caught sight of Steve’s stiff shoulders over the back of the couch as he jutted his chin in the general direction of the living room. “We just got done eating—do you two want plates?”

“Yes, please,” both of the boys answered in unison, and Bucky nodded his head once before he turned back to the kitchen and listened in as Francis dropped Shadow back to the floor as the dog started flailing in vein to follow after Bucky, and James addressed his actual father as they made their way into the apartment.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Evening, James,” Steve greeted back, and Bucky had to hide his giggle at the frustrated undertone in Steve’s voice and hope that neither of the boys noticed as he set about portioning them out plates of his and Steve’s left-over pasta dinner. “How was the library?”

“Fine,” Bucky could just see James’ shrugging in his mind’s eye as the boy fell back onto the couch beside Monty with a sigh—the disgruntled ‘mow’ of Fabs confirming Bucky’s theory of where James had chosen to sit as the ding of Bosco’s bell announced his jump back up onto one of the arms of the couches. “Do you mind if Francis stays the night? His dad’s out of town on a mission.”

“Did you get your homework finished?” Steve quirked an eyebrow in Bucky’s mind.

“Yep,” James confirmed, his answer short but genuine, but Bucky missed what happened next as Francis stuck his head into the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Barnes?”

“No, that’s okay,” Bucky smiled over his shoulder as he popped the first plate in the microwave with a wet paper towel over top of it. “Not unless you want to grab some drinks for you and James.”

“I can do that,” Francis volunteered, stepping into the kitchen more fully, and the two spent the next five or six minutes chatting happily back and forth about their days and how the boys’ soccer practice had gone before Francis and James made their way to the library, until Francis was leading Bucky back into the living room with two plates in his hands.

“Do I get food now?” James asked, looking up from where he had pulled out his phone.

“Yes, you do,” Francis smiled, as James slipped his phone back down into his pocket and unceremoniously nudged Monty off of the seat so that Francis would have enough room to sit. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I know,” James rolled his eyes as he sat himself up in his seat a bit and accepted the plate that Francis held down to him, but Monty just crawled his way over to the couch that Steve was sitting on and quite literally climbed up over top of Steve (who was reading what looked to be an essay of James’) before he settled down on the cushion on Steve’s other side. “Apparently, Mom and Dad were watching a movie while we were gone. What were you watching again?”

The question was clearly directed at Steve, but Bucky answered anyway, holding the bowl of popcorn he’d made down to Steve, “ _Stand By Me_.”

“ _Stand By Me?_ ” James screwed up his face in confusion as he settled his plate against his chest, but Francis quickly cut him off. “What the hell is—“

“Wait, we’re watching _Stand By Me_?” Steve had paused the movie on a backdrop of trees, so Francis’ look towards the TV had been fruitless, but still he bubbled on as if it hadn’t been as he sat a little farther forward in his seat. “Dude, I _love_ that movie!”

“You do?” James asked, sounding completely unconvinced, and maybe a little concerned as he raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend. Bucky ignored them, though, in favor of shaking the popcorn bowl in front of Steve’s face, and a second later the motion caught the blonde’s attention, and the man was looking up.

“Huh?”

“I made popcorn,” Bucky explained patiently, watching as the confusion swarmed in Steve’s eyes for another couple of seconds before finally—

“Popcorn?” Steve’s baby blues flicked up to Bucky’s.

“Yep,” Bucky confirmed, thankful when Steve finally dropped the papers onto the blanket in his lap and took the bowl from Bucky with an almost child-like curiosity and quiet hope. “Got you a bottle of water, too.”

“Awesome,” Steve’s his eyes flicked to the water bottles Bucky sat on the table, the remnants of their dinner having been cleared by Francis while Steve and James had been talking without Steve or James noticing. “Thank you, Buck.”

“You’re welcome,” Bucky acknowledged, settling back down on the couch beside Steve as he did so, completely unsurprised when Shadow jumped up at his side and started sniffing at the bowl a second later. “I—“

“Hey, Dad?” James’ voice once again cut Bucky off, and without hesitation, both Steve and Bucky’s heads snapped up, even as Bucky pulled Shadow back from the bowl.

“Yeah?”

“Do you mind restarting the movie?” James asked, looking up between the two of them semi-self-consciously as he explained. “This guy keeps going on about how good it is, but I don’t understand the whole plot thing, and it would just be a lot easier if I could start from the beginning—“

“Not at all,” Steve’s shoulders relaxed what little they’d still been tensed as he set the essay aside completely and reached forward to grab the remote from where it had been put on the table.

“Are you sure?” James hesitated as Francis stole a particularly cheesy bite of pasta from his plate. “Because—“

“Yep,” Steve reassured him gently, hitting the button on the remote to return to the menu page as he nodded his head for emphasis. “We’d just started it anyway.”

That was a lie, and for a moment Bucky wondered if James was going to call Steve on it—the boy was taking to his parentage well, and Bucky would never cease to be fascinated by what he noticed in the world around him—but then he relaxed back into his seat and turned his attention towards the screen in anticipation as he absently took a bite of the grilled chicken spread throughout the pasta.

“Okay,” he agreed, and barely twenty seconds later, Steve was restarting the movie and settling back against Bucky’s side.

“You good?” he looked down at Bucky, his eyes sparking in mild-concern as the production company logos started playing across the screen, and Bucky smiled as he nodded his head.

“Yep,” he found Steve’s hand with his flesh one and threaded their fingers together as he reached for the popcorn bowl with his metal. “I’m good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next (and last!) Prompt is "Doing Something Hot".


	30. Doing Something Hot (3180)

“Jesus _fuck_ , it’s cold out here,” Bucky whistled as he hobbled over to where Steve was standing on the other side of the wooden deck. “You think you could hurry it up over there?”

“Sorry, sorry!” Steve apologized, fumbling with the vials in his hands. “I can’t decide which scent to use—“

“Just pick one after we get in,” Bucky rolled his eyes, quite literally pushing Steve out of the way so he could climb his way up the stairs to the hot tub. The two of them had been vacationing on the northern coast of Norway—a well-earned weekend getaway in a cabin in the middle of nowhere—and Natasha and Pepper had ordered some hot-tub safe incense for them to experiment with while they were there. The view around the cabin was absolutely beautiful with the mountains jutting up from the earth in every direction, the frozen-over lake a couple hundred yards away from the back deck, and the snow that covered everything from the mountains to the trees to the cabin, but Super Soldier Serum or not, it was cold as shit, and the metal arm was just making it worse. “Nat said they fade away after a couple of hours, so if we play our cards right, we should be able to try them all.”

“True,” Steve hummed as he watched Bucky shed his robe and shiver, and Bucky was quite pleased to hear him set the vials down on the side of the hot tub as he stepped down into the hot tub. The bubbling and foaming water was hotter than was exactly comfortable against Bucky’s feet and shins, but it was better than the cold, so Bucky didn’t waste any time settling down into it—the resulting pain in his chest be damned. The water hissed and popped as it came into contact with the near-freezing temperature of his metal arm, but Bucky didn’t hear anything breaking or cracking so he figured he was in the clear.

Steve gave a huffing exhale of his own as he too shucked off his robe, but his decent down into the rolling water was much slower as Bucky shifted over onto the farthest too-small seat.

Typically the two headed south for something warmer when they vacationed, but they’d decided to try something new, and Bucky had actually been happy that they did. Steve looked cute in sweaters, and Bucky had enjoyed flaunting his collection of flannel. The two had resolutely avoided any kind of “winter” sport-type activities that actually involved them venturing out into the snow or onto the ice, but they’d spent plenty of time curled up in front of the fireplace and splurged on the shipping fees for the clothes and furniture they’d bought in the closest towns, and they’d only been there three days!

Unfortunately, the swim trunks the two of them had slipped on out of habit obscured Bucky’s view of the picture of Steve relaxing down into the water, but Bucky had seen more than enough of what was underneath of the fabric to complete the mental image, and he knew that it wouldn’t be long before he was blessed with access to Steve’s skin again. It took a moment or two, but eventually Steve settled down into the seat beside him and Bucky gave a sigh of relief as their fingers found each other and twined underneath of the water.

“You doing okay?” Steve asked quietly.

“Yep,” Bucky nodded his head, watching three or four wolves interact down around the bank of the lake absently. So far, the two had seen quite a lot of the natural Fauna of the land, but aside from an overly friendly shrew and a wienerbrød obsessed merlin, none of them had bothered approaching Steve or Bucky. Bucky was thinking about heading down and sitting by the lake for a couple of hours to see if he could get some of the wolves to approach him before they left—he hardly had to worry about them hurting him—but aside from that, he really wasn’t thinking about much other than the sound of the water bubbling against his back and his toes as the warm slowly seeped through his scarred skin. “You decide which one of the incense you’re going to use?”

“Yeaaah—you know, I think I’m going to skip out on them for now,” Steve made a face as his eyes stayed glued to the horizon in front of them, and Bucky couldn’t resist the urge to peek over at him.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded his head, his fingers twitching around Bucky’s. “I mean I appreciate the gift, and I would like to try them eventually, it’s just—it’s really beautiful here, you know? With the trees and the snow and stuff, and I kind of just want to enjoy that for a little bit, without lilacs or lilies or whatever else they are getting in the way.”

“…Okay,” Bucky agreed after a moment or two of just staring up at the side of Steve’s beautiful face, squeezing Steve’s fingers back for a second as he did so. A breath or two later, he turned his gaze back down to the wolves who were now playing in the snow, and he watched them idly as his fingers played against Steve’s.

It really was beautiful around the lake. There were other cabins and cottages around, and there were several wooden piers stretching out over the ice, but most of the natural scenery had remained untouched, and the mountains in the distance gave Bucky a sense of calm instead of one of panic. The cold still nagged at the back of his mind, but it was nothing worse than the harshness of the northeastern winters, and certainly no worse than charging in through HYDRA compounds with nothing but a knife in his hand and a gun on his back. Steve being there with him helped—Steve always helped—and it gave him a sense of tingling pride to be facing his fear head on. It would still be awhile until he was able to just accept being in a cold place without that claustrophobic feeling clutching at his chest, but he was taking baby steps, and willingly coming on the trip was definitely one of them.

The water of the hot tub quickly warmed Bucky’s flesh and Bucky’s metal until his muscles slowly relaxed down into the water, and the pain in his chest eased as he sunk down until only his head was above the water. Steve kept his gaze resolutely forward, so Bucky doubted that he really noticed, but Bucky didn’t need him to, either. Nearly twenty-five years together had taught Bucky that forced communication was never a good thing, and he was happy to share a moment of quiet self-reflection with Steve instead of actually _sharing_ it with him. Eventually, Bucky let his eyes fall shut as he focused in on the warmth of the water and birds tweeting and flittering around them, until Steve shifted beside him.

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Yeah?” Bucky’s eyes flicked open as he looked up at Steve.

“You know I love you…right?” Steve asked, his gaze cast downwards at the water.

“Of course, I do,” Bucky answered concernedly, tugging on Steve’s fingers as he did so. “But what’s going on? Why are you asking me that all of a sudden, baby doll?”

“It’s nothing,” Steve shook his head, brushing off Bucky’s concern gently. “It’s just…being up here in the cold like this reminds me of that day that I crashed into the artic, and I…I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I was on the radio with Peg as I crashed…”

“Ah,” Bucky made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement as he looked back out over the horizon. Bucky couldn’t remember if Steve had been the one to tell him or not, but he had heard somewhere along the lines that something like that had been going on.

Bucky didn’t dislike Peggy—in fact, it was kind of the opposite—but he honestly didn’t know just how much Steve had felt for her, and Steve had never been very forthcoming with information on the subject. Bucky knew that nothing physical had happened between them, Steve had been waiting for Bucky when they’d first met, and Peggy wasn’t the kind of person that would have agreed to do anything with Steve while he was still grieving afterwards, but history was quite obviously convinced that _something_ had happened between them, and Bucky had seen the videos of Peggy talking about Steve. No matter what the publicists said, people couldn’t fake that level of love and devotion, and Bucky had avoiding asking just as much as Steve had avoided telling.

“Phillips was there, too, so don’t go getting any ideas in your head about confessed love or anything like that, but it _was_ …” Steve mulled over his words for a moment before he went on. “… _Emotional_. After you died, she was all that I had left, and I couldn’t even see straight after you fell. Phillips worried for a while that something had happened with the serum and that I was reverting back to what I was before…never did see that man as concerned as he was that day—I thought he was going to march the Commandoes up into heaven and demand that God let Erskine go so he could come fix me…”

Steve gave a snort and a half of a chuckle as his eyes danced with pain faded into humor with time, and Bucky could actually see the Colonel Phillips he remembered doing something like that—the Commandoes and Peggy marching right along beside him.

“My body stabilized a couple of hours after we got back to base, but it wasn’t too much later that it became abundantly clear that the pain wasn’t going anywhere—no matter what I tried.”

“Steve,” Bucky knew all too well what Steve was getting at.

“I was lost without you, Buck,” Steve ignored him, voice cracking with the emotions quite clearly searing through his veins. “Didn’t know what to do. I found a decimated bar in the city and drank of every drop of liquor I could find, but no matter what I did, it wasn’t enough. I could still see you falling. Peg…eventually Peggy found me, and dragged my sorry ass back to base. I think you know me well enough to know what I did next—“

“You went after Schmidt.”

“Yes,” Steve nodded his answer even though Bucky’s words hadn’t been a question. “We were underprepared, and undermanned, but yes. I went after Schmidt. Phillips was concerned and I knew it wouldn’t win the war, but…it was either I did that or I did nothing. By the time…by the time it got down to just being Schmidt and I up on that plane, I was done. Everything that I’d ever set out to do—come join you, fight for my country, bring an end to the man that had ordered the hit on Erskine—I had accomplished. There wasn’t anything left waiting for me on the other side… Peggy tried to give a reason to live—she loved me with everything she had at the time, and a part of me loved her, too, but she just wasn’t you, and I knew I would never be able to come back stateside and live my life as if everything was okay.”

“It was petty of me, I know, but it was the way I felt at the time, and I didn’t want to put Peggy through that. She deserved…that woman deserved the world, and argue as you or she might, I couldn’t give that to her. After I’d killed Schmidt and the computer came across saying that the engines were failing, I saw my way out and I took it. It was selfish…and I know it hurt Peg—hurt a lot of people actually—but I couldn’t bring myself to care, and I still think that I did the right thing. The world wasn’t ready for something like me back then, and I don’t think I would have been with it enough to protest if the army started using me for evil. Phillips had come around by that time and wanted me out in the field, but most of the rest of them—the suits—they were still afraid of me, and Tony’s found documentation in Howard’s files for a chamber much like the ones that HYDRA used on you—”

“They wanted to freeze you?” Bucky’s metal hand clamped down into a fist as his jaw clenched.

“I don’t think they quite had the mind control stuff in mind,” Steve’s eyes flicked over to Bucky’s. “But yeah. I didn’t know it at the time, but at least with me crashing myself into the artic, it was my choice, and I wasn’t forced to go back to dancing around in tights or undertaking missions I didn’t think I should be going on. Being here—just being around all of this—reminds me of how much pain I was in at the time, and how thankful I am that you came back after I woke up. I know it was hard for you, being tortured and having to kill people and having no say over your own body, but God damn did it hurt, Buck.”

Steve’s hand tightened once again around Bucky’s, and that was all the permission Bucky needed. Seconds later he was wading through the water towards Steve and letting Steve lift him up onto Steve’s lap. Steve’s seat was no bigger than the one that Bucky had been sitting on, so it was a tight fit at best, but Steve’s thighs made as comfortable of a chair as ever, and Bucky sighed as his floating balls and inner thighs nestled up nice and close against Steve’s crotch and stomach. Bucky was certain to keep hunched nice and low so that their bare chests were touching, and Steve’s free hand circled around Bucky’s waist to hold him close as Bucky’s came to rest on Steve’s right pectoral.

“I’d spent so much time just loving you with so much of my heart that I didn’t know what to do when you were gone,” Steve went on, his words never faltering as they came together. The only difference was that he refused to look away from Bucky’s as he spoke. “I tried to be good and keep it all under control so that I could lead the Howlies and help the army, but I just couldn’t. No matter what I did, you were always there, and I just didn’t want to live in a world without you anymore. And just being up here—around all this cold—I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you again. I love you, Buck, so much, and I just…I can’t live through losing you again.”

“Hush, now,” Bucky chastised Steve quietly, reaching up to run the fingers of his free hand over Steve’s jaw as he pressed their lips together in a soft and gentle kiss. “As flattered as I am, there’s no reason to think like that, baby doll. I’m not going anywhere—“

“You said that the last time,” Steve’s lips puffed out into a soft pout.

“I know,” Bucky allowed, pushing himself even more firmly against Steve’s body. “But I’m here now, aren’t I? Nothing’s taking me away from you again, baby doll—at least not for a very long time. We’ve got the rest of our lives to worry about something happening to one of us, but we’ve only got now to slow down and enjoy what we have, so I think we should.”

Eventually, Bucky would sit Steve down and have a very serious conversation with him about their place in the world, and how very insignificant Bucky was compared to all of the good that Steve did, but that could wait for a little bit longer. For the moment, Bucky just wanted to get Steve calmed back down again, and Steve didn’t seem to be arguing with him.

“I want to kiss you again,” he whispered against Bucky’s wondering fingertips.

“So, kiss me,” Bucky whispered back, already leaning forward, and Steve met him half way. Their tongues danced along side their lips, and Bucky was squirmed happily as Steve’s hand slipped down underneath of the waist band of his shorts.

Bucky made sure not to move too much, so that way he wasn’t exposing his flesh back to the cold air, but Steve seemed to prefer it that way as he let go of Bucky’s hand in favor of grabbing onto handfuls of Bucky’s flesh. Steve gave a grunt against Bucky’s lips as the motion rocked Bucky forward against his cock and Bucky whimpered in response.

Everything felt so different in the water with their bodies free of their own weight, but it was good, and pretty soon Bucky was kissing his was down Steve’s jaw as he rocked the two of them together. Steve was unabashed in the grunts and groans he was making, but Bucky appreciated that as he felt Steve swell underneath of him. Steve’s hands stayed down on Bucky’s hips and his lower back and his ass, but Bucky didn’t care as he grunted against Steve’s skin and clutched at his strong muscles. There were very few things that felt better to Bucky than working himself over top of Steve like he was, and the beauty around them only served to enhance the experience. Even with the messed up sunlight, everything around them was white and luminous from the snow.

Steve’s breath caught and his muscles tensed as he came into the water, but it was only a moment or two later that he relaxed underneath of Bucky’s weight. Bucky shifted himself up onto his knees ever so slightly after, and gave another groan as the cold air hit his shoulders and his cock hit Steve’s abs. His orgasm was nearly silent, too, his ass and his thighs squeezing tight as he thrust into Steve’s abs, but it was no less mind blowing for the subtlety of it. Bucky stayed there like that, letting the cold in the air bring him back to himself as he panted, before he turned himself around in his seat and settled back down on Steve’s lap to watch the wolves that were still playing down on the bank—two cubs and another wolf having joined them in Bucky’s distraction.

He was careful of Steve’s cock, not wanting to cause him any discomfort in his post-orgasmic sensitivity, but Steve’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist as Bucky sagged back against his chest, and Bucky spared a second to nuzzle up underneath of Steve’s jaw before he turned his attention back to the horizon.

Important conversations would have to come later, but for the moment all Bucky had to focus on was spending time with Steve, and that was exactly what he was going to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And sadly, there are no more Prompts!  
> Thank you so much to all of you who have stopped by to check this challenge out, and thank you to those of you who have given me feedback! I had a lot of fun writing and editing these, and learned some stuff about my self along the way, so…thank you! I apologize for not being able to stick to my original posting schedule, but I did deliver on my promise to finish!


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